In Blood There is Truth
by kjewls
Summary: Treatment of a minor injury forces Elena to question who she is, why she's here, and who she truly loves.  But with The Sacrifice looming, will she be able to right the wrongs in her life, and protect the people she cares about, before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

"Owww! Dammit!"

Elena slams the curling iron down on the bathroom counter, and tilts her neck upward to examine the new red welt on her neck. "Get a hold of yourself, Elena," she mutters to herself, as she delicately presses her fingers along the bruise, wincing lightly at the pain.

Taking a step backward and turning to her left, she examines herself critically in the full-length mirror on the back of her door. The image staring back at her is, honestly, pretty shocking. And this is coming from a girl who's witnessed MANY shocking things, over the past couple of months. The dark probing eyes, heavily accented with mascara, the jet black eyeliner and silver eye shadow, the blood red lipstick, her brunette hair painstakingly fashioned into tight ringlets, gently cascading down her back, the black denim jacket, the pushup bra, the skinny jeans, and F*&k Me heels . . . all of it together, make Elena look like a completely different person. She looks like . . . HER.

"Hi . . . I'm Katherine," Elena coos at the mirror, confidently, her hand placed seductively on her hip.

_Not bad, _The Petrova Doppelganger grudgingly admits to herself. This could work. Correction. This _has_ to work.

"Pretty good, actually. But Katherine would never go anywhere with that curling iron burn on her neck. It looks like a hickey. And hickeys, are SO last season," rasps a deep masculine voice in Elena's ear that sends chills down her spine.

Elena was so focused on her new appearance, and her admittedly complicated plans for the night ahead . . . plans that could end up getting them all _killed_ . . . that she didn't even notice him come in. She stares at the image of the two of them reflected back at her from the mirror. Damon and Katherine . . . Katherine and Damon. Even she had to admit, they made for a scorching hot couple.

"Does that hurt?" Damon inquires, placing a cold finger on the bruise.

Elena shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. "No . . . it's fine. I'm fine," Elena lies, subtly moving away from Damon's touch, uncomfortable with the effect it's having on her. "It's just a little burn. I'm sure it will go away in a couple of hours."

"I'm sure it will," agrees Damon. "But a 'couple of hours' is a luxury we don't have."

Damon reaches around her, and extracts a small pink razor from the shower wall. Holding it firmly to his wrist, he cuts. Within a few moments, a slim trickle of thick blood has pooled along the vertical slice of skin. He then places his hand in front of her mouth. "Here you go, _Katherine_. Bottoms up," he offers dryly.

"I'm not drinking your blood, Damon. Nice try, though," Elena scoffs, turning her face back to the mirror, as she repositions her hair over the incriminating welt.

"Of course, not. Why should you? So, what if the fate of your . . . _Soul Mate_ . . .," he snarks, uttering those last two words, as if they taste like turpentine on his tongue, " . . . not to mention the fate of the whole WORLD . . . hangs in the balance. Clearly, it's not worth the hassle of you having to sip from the blood of my loins."

Elena sighs, as The Big Plan plays itself out, in her unwilling subconscious. Less than 24-hours ago, Klaus had kidnapped Stefan, just like the gang had assured her that he would. Then, Katherine, impersonating Elena, tearfully confronted Klaus, offering herself to him as the Petrova Doppelganger, in exchange for the promise of Stefan's safety.

Tonight, when the full moon rises, the Sacrifice will be performed. And, if what Elijah says is true, Klaus will be weakened during its performance. But Katherine, being a vampire, obviously, can't die during it, no matter how deeply she's cut. And before Klaus has a moment to react to this "unfortunate" turn of events, Elena, dressed as Katherine, will approach Klaus from behind, and stab him with the White Oak Dagger.

"What's the matter? Afraid you might actually enjoy it?" Damon jokes wryly, shaking Elena out of her reverie.

"Just shut up, and give me your hand," Elena hisses.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Elena's lips are pursed over Damon's wrist and she's . . . drinking. It's not the first time Elena has tasted blood. But it's definitely her most "casual" drinking experience, especially considering that every other time she's done this, she's been literally moments away from death . . .

Damon's blood tastes sweeter than she expected it would . . . kind of like the dessert wine she'd imbibed at a House Party she'd attended about a year back . . . back before her world had become inundated with vampires, witches, werewolves, spells, mind compulsions, and Moon Curses . . . back before her parents had died . . . back when she was just a normal high school girl, in search of a good time.

A warm tingling feeling rushes through Elena's body, and she finds herself immediately transported to another place and time . . .

_It's 1864. Elena knows this instinctively, without giving it much thought or analysis. It's the day of the Founder's Day Ball. And she's in the Grand Ballroom of the Lockwood Mansion Stefan. They are both dressed in period garb, and are dancing together. Sighing, Elena rests her head gently on Stefan's shoulder, feeling his chest rise and fall in time with the music. When the song ends, she tilts her head up to kiss him._

_This kiss is different than the countless ones she's shared with Stefan, ever since they started dating nearly a year ago. It's passionate, and all-enveloping, making her unquenchably thirsty for more of those smooth lips . . . his warmth . . . his satiny smooth tongue. It is, without a doubt, the most amazing kiss she's ever experienced. A soft moan escapes her lips, as she breathes in his unique scent, which is somehow different this time, muskier and more manly._

_But, when Elena pulls away, she realizes that the man she is kissing is not Stefan at all . . . It's . . . . Damon._

_Her lips still latched onto Damon's skin, Elena blinks, and the scene shifts. Now, it's Present Day . . . or close to it. Elena is standing in her bedroom, in her pajamas. Her bedroom window is open, and there is a distinct chill in the air. The scene she is experiencing is both entirely familiar to her, and completely unfamiliar, at the same time. Damon is standing in front of her, dressed in all black. Clutched between Damon's fingers is Elena's vervain necklace, its metallic chain shimmering in the moonlight. _

"_I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it. I love you, Elena," says Damon, as he stares deeply into her eyes, while she feels his cool breath on her face. "And it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you . . . And why you can't know this." _

_Damon shakes his head, willing the tears forming in the corners of his eyes to go away. And yet, the pools of liquid keep on forming, threatening to break free. "I don't deserve you. But my brother does." _

_Damon leans in toward Elena, gently brushing his lips against her forehead. She wants to speak, but finds that all words have escaped her. She wants to move, but finds her feet cemented to the hard wood floor. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this," he says, with a pained determination and finality that shakes Elena to her core. "But you do."_

Elena yanks her head upward, shocked and embarrassed by her fantasy. _Because that was all it was, right? A fantasy? An inconvenient hallucination, brought on by the intimate act of drinking Damon's blood? Or was it something more? _

Feeling dizzy, Elena takes a step backward from Damon, nearly tripping over her own feet, as she woozily settles herself down on the edge of the bathtub. Elena slowly raises her arm toward her neck, and gently massages it with her fingers. The bruise has completely healed, leaving only a gentle feeling of softness and warmth behind.

Damon is staring at her, his eyes, wide with concern and . . . something she's not quite willing to think about right now. Then, in a split second, the gentleness and sweetness in Damon's face, disappears, willed away by the Mask of Cocksure Bravado, with which Elena has become so familiar over these past few months.

"Was it as good for you, as it was for me?" Damon snarks, eyebrows arched in Classic Damon Fashion, as he effortlessly launches into that maddening "Eye Thing" he always does.

Raising his hand to his face, for inspection, Damon exaggeratedly rubs with his thumb at the red lip-shaped mark on his, now-completely healed wrist. The long cut that resided there, just moments ago, is nothing more than a fleeting memory. Damon then turns on the faucet, letting the cool water run across his arm for a few seconds, before deftly scrubbing all remnants of Elena's (or, perhaps, more accurately, _Katherine's_) lips off his skin.

"You may want to retouch that lipstick of yours," Damon notes wryly, before exiting the bathroom.

Once he is gone, Elena finds herself, once again, staring at her reflection in the mirror, feeling more uncertain of herself, than ever before. "Who the hell are you, Elena Gilbert?" She inquires out loud.

4


	2. Chapter 2

Commuting by foot was probably not the most efficient way to travel to the site of the Historic Witch Massacre. (The Sacrifice was due to take place there at Midnight, which was just under an hour away.) However, it _was _the mode of transport least likely to attract any attention. After all, if anyone was to spot Elena (who now looked exactly like Katherine), and Damon, they would simply assume that the two "friends" were out for a late night stroll.

Elena remained silent throughout most of the journey. Rather than making small talk with Damon - who she found she could barely make eye contact with, without flashing back to what she had experienced, while drinking his blood – the Petrova Doppelganger focused intently on her feet. Damon seemed oddly pensive as well. Every few seconds, he would sneak a glance over at Elena. However, he always made sure to look away, before she caught him staring.

The only sound that could be heard on the trail was the light warble of crickets, and the crunch of grass and fallen leaves beneath "Katherine's" ridiculously high heels. _How the heck does she get around in these things, anyway? _Elena thought to herself, silently wishing she had worn her own, more sensible, footwear, instead.

"You really are such a scintillating conversationalist, Elena. Honestly, I don't know how Stefan gets a word in, edgewise," Damon snarks, casting a sideways glance over at his impeccably dressed travel companion.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't being sufficiently entertaining, Damon. Maybe I'm just a bit preoccupied with . . ." realizing someone may overhear them, Elena catches herself before revealing too much of their plans, ". . . what's about to happen."

Damon nods emphatically, and the two remain silent a few moments longer, each deliberately staring straight ahead. Suddenly, Damon smirks, and a chuckle escapes from his lips. "What?" Elena asks, defensively.

"Nothing, it's just that . . . nevermind."

"WHAT DAMON? Just tell me."

"Well, back at the house, when you were drinking my blood, it almost seemed like you were . . . I don't know . . . kind of . . . into it."

Elena furrows her brow, in frustration, hoping that, in the darkness, Damon can't see the blush rising across her neck and cheeks. "No, Damon, I wasn't _into it._ I was just . . . Wait a second? That was YOU wasn't it? YOU did that to me?"

Damon grins. "Did what? Rocked your world? Answered your lifelong prayers? Gave you the best bloodsucking of your entire life."

Elena punches him in the side. "You KNOW what you did. And it was completely inappropriate."

Damon stops walking and casts Elena a curious sidelong glance, as a huge grin moves slowly across his face. "Elena Gilbert . . . did you . . . have a SEXUAL FANTASY about me?"

Elena rolls her eyes, and continues walking.

"Oh my God! You DID, didn't you? Well, this is just spectacular. I may die . . . again . . . tonight, But you just made my undead life," he remarks, with a loud laugh that makes Elena want to seriously punch him in the face.

"Cut it out, Damon. It's pretty obvious you did that Inception thing on me again, just like you did when we first met."

Damon shakes his head. "Trust me, I would have loved to do that to you. But the thing is, you would have to be SLEEPING for that to work," he noted slyly. "And, YOU were most definitely awake."

Elena bites her lower lip, determined to find a logical explanation for this. "So, you just compelled me to sleep, while I was drinking your blood."

"You are chock full of vervain, Elena. I couldn't compel you, if I tried."

Elena stops walking and twirls around to face Damon. "Wait a minute. Stefan told me something about this, once. When you drink a vampire's blood, you share a psychic connection with them. Those weren't my fantasies I was having . . . they were YOUR memories, weren't they?"

Damon winks back at Elena. "Funny . . . I don't recall ever having sex with you . . . It must not have been all that memorable."

Ignoring the comment, Elena continues on. "It was 1864 . . . we were at the Founder's Day Ball. We were dancing . . . you and I . . . or maybe it was you and Katherine."

Damon stares up at the sky, as he tries to picture the memory Elena is describing. "What were you wearing?"

"A golden dress, with a green sash around the waist."

"The dress you wore to the Founder's Day ball," Damon replies, more to himself than to Elena.

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you, Elena Gilbert," Damon replies, looking Elena straight in the eye, as he says it.

Damon's blue-green eyes literally seem to glow in the dark. He has this maddening way of looking right through Elena, making her feel completely vulnerable and naked under his powerful gaze. To her chagrin and deep annoyance, Elena finds herself so completely drawn into those translucent orbs, that she begins to wonder if Damon isn't using compulsion on her right now. Then, she remembers that she is, as Damon mentioned, still "chock full of vervain."

"Katherine never owned a dress like that," Damon replies. "I'm sure of it. What happened next . . . in this so-called memory, I mean?"

"We kissed," Elena mutters under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?" Damon probes, clearly loving every minute of this.

"We KISSED, Damon. Or rather, you kissed Katherine."

"Katherine never kissed me on the dance floor . . . She only did that with Stefan," Damon replies, a bit wistfully.

Not quite sure how to respond to that, Elena opts instead to change the subject. "After that, the scene switched to present day. We were standing in my bedroom. It was late at night, and I was in my pajamas. The window was open. You told me that you loved me, and then compelled me to forget it."

Suddenly, all the color seems to have drained out of Damon's already pale face. He stares at Elena in shock and embarrassment for a few moments, before recovering his Damon-esque cocky composure. "You wish, Gilbert. Get over yourself," he manages to reply.

Damon's sudden change in behavior has not gone unnoticed by Elena. Elena's retelling of her second "memory," clearly has had more of an impact on Damon than the first one. The question is why.

Then, the previously dormant memories come rushing back to Elena. It is almost as if they are being brought to her by a current of wind, or an oncoming wave in the ocean. Immediately, everything becomes astoundingly clear. "It was the night Rose and Trevor kidnapped me," Elena recalls, her voice sounding eerily dreamlike and faraway.

"Elijah took my vervain necklace from me that night," Elena continues. "With all the fighting, and the chaos, I thought I had lost it for good. Then, the next thing I know, I'm standing in my room alone. And I'm wearing my necklace."

"YOU returned my necklace to me that night. I'm sure of it now. How could I have possibly forgotten a thing like that? It's almost as if you . . . Oh, Damon."

"Let's just forget this ever happened, OK?" Damon replies beginning to walk unnaturally briskly, "We should really get going. Santa Klaus awaits."

"Damon," Elena rushes forward, and places her hand gently on Damon's shoulder.

The move catches Damon off guard, and he turns toward Elena. Their faces are inches away from one another now. Damon can smell Elena's Pantene shampoo, her strawberry bodywash, and the vanilla-scented lotion she always uses on her skin. The effect is deliciously intoxicating.

"You know I care about you. That's never going to change, Damon. We've shared so much together, you and I. And, in some ways, I feel like you understand me better than anybody else does," Elena admits. "But my heart will always belong to . . ."

Damon's eyes go dark, his emotions beginning to churn in his chest, like a Category 5 Tornado, completely impervious to reason or calculation. _Damn, these human feelings! _He thinks to himself bitterly.

"You love Stefan. You'll always love _Stefan_. You know, you say that, Elena. But sometimes, I just don't believe it. The way you look at me. The way we are when we're together."

Damon begins moving toward Elena, with a look in his eyes that's so determined and intense, it's almost menacing. Tears fill Elena's eyes, as she begins to back away. She's desperately frightened, but not of Damon. As dangerous and as powerful as he is, she knows, deep down, that he would never intentionally hurt her. What's scaring Elena most right now, is _herself_.

"There's something HERE, Elena," Damon continues, "Something I never ever felt with Katherine. Not because I didn't love her with all my heart . . . but because she never reciprocated that love. She was incapable of it. I know that now. YOU taught me what real love feels like, Elena. And you can lie to yourself all you want about how you feel, but you can't lie to me. Not anymore."

Elena takes another step back, but finds herself up against a tree. She tries to move away, but finds herself rooted to that spot, unable to move or look away. Tears appear in the corner of Damon's eyes. And the sight of it literally breaks Elena's heart. She finds that she too is now sobbing uncontrollably. She begins shaking her head vigorously back and forth, willing her heart to stop beating so fast.

"Damon, I don't love you. I'm never going to love you. I'm sorry," she cries, her hands shaking as she clutches the bark of the tree, to keep herself from falling forward.

Damon nods sadly and takes a step backward, "OK . . . It's OK," he tells her.

"I don't love you," Elena whispers again, her voice now completely choked through with tears.

"I know," responds Damon.

"I can't . . ."

Then, as if drawn together by some cosmic force that neither of them could even begin to explain or understand, Elena and Damon close the gap between their two bodies. With their arms wrapped greedily around one another, and their fingertips clutching ferociously at each other's back sides, their lips meet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: This chapter contains some mature content, but not enough that I saw fit to "elevate" its "T for Teen" rating. Nevertheless, things are about to get a bit, for lack of a better term, "smutty." So . . . viewer discretion is advised.**

Damon Salvatore had been on this Earth for over 160 years. And yet, never before had he felt so alive. So many nights, he lay awake in his bed, dreaming of the moment in time, when he and the human he so adored would finally give in to their pent-up passions for one another. And yet, even his most vivid dreams were nothing compared to what he was experiencing in this very moment.

Damon's entire body tingles with excitement and anticipation, as he luxuriates in the taste of Elena's lips (vanilla, with just a hint of peach lip gloss) and her tongue (peppermint, with a lick of cherry cordial). With their hearts beating rapidly in time with one another, and their breaths becoming increasingly labored with every hungry kiss, Damon can _feel _the ecstasy behind Elena's sighs, and the joy beneath her quiet, but increasingly insistent, moans. How could he have EVER mistaken Katherine for Elena, the night of the Founder's Day Parade? In hindsight, kissing Elena's imposter did not even come remotely close to the intensely pleasurable experience of locking lips with the _Real Thing_.

Damon feels Elena's hands insistently tugging upward at his fitted blue shirt. Thankful that he had ultimately decided against the stylish, but pesky, Brooks Brothers button-down number that he had initially planned on wearing to the upcoming Vampire Apocalypse, Damon generously lifts the flimsy fabric over his head, tossing it to the ground beneath them. After exploring every inch of the firm flesh of his abdominals with her hands, Elena expertly bends forward, and allowing her soft sensuous lips to follow suit. "Elena Gilbert, you naughty, naughty minx," Damon whispers breathlessly into her ear, his mind officially completely blown.

It isn't until Elena's mouth begins exploring Damon's body in earnest, that he begins to feel that all-too-familiar change coming over him. The skin on his face begins to harden. A surge of pressure builds behind his temples, and crawls toward his eye sockets. Damon can feel himself becoming stronger, the muscles in his arms becoming tense and rigid with sheer force and unadulterated power that comes with being a supernatural being.

When Damon's fangs begin to poke out painfully from his gum line, he tries in vain to keep them at bay. Furrowing his brow, Damon bites down hard on his lips, in an attempt to keep his mouth from doing what years of experience, and animal instincts, have taught him to do. Big mistake! As a result of this action, Damon begins to taste the metallic salty sweetness of his own blood on his tongue. Immediately, he begins to hunger for more.

Damon can no longer detect the scent of Elena's lip gloss, or the intoxicating scent of her perfume. The sweet scent of Elena's blood, as it courses through her veins, now overpowers his nostrils, making it suddenly very hard for him to breathe. The effort to keep his true nature in check makes Damon feel dizzy and extremely lightheaded. After all, he never had a reason to control himself like this before. "Bite first, cry about it later," had always been_ this_ vampire's motto. But Elena Gilbert had gone and changed all that . . .

Elena immediately notices the stiffening in Damon's posture, and how he has abruptly stopped kissing her. Just moments before, Damon's arms had been methodically working their way up and down Elena's back, kneading her supple flesh with his strong fingertips. Now, they are almost completely immobile, clasped firmly around her waist, as if hanging on for dear life. _He must be starving_, Elena thinks to herself, recalling just how much blood she had unintentionally taken from Damon's wrist, less than 30 minutes ago.

Ever so gently, Elena cups her hands on either side of Damon's face, bringing his blinking incandescent blue-green eyes in line with hers. "It's OK," she whispers. "You won't hurt me."

Elena then slowly takes off her black denim jacket and lowers the fabric on her red halter top, to reveal an unblemished patch of soft downy skin. "Bite me there," she insists calmly, but firmly.

Giving in fully to his vampiric impulses, Damon lets out a loud growl and lunges toward the spot where Elena has instructed, his fangs now fully erect and extended. But, just before Damon's teeth can break through Elena's skin, something stops him from completing the act. Slowly, and regretfully, the elder Salvatore brother steps back from Elena. This allows the Petrova Doppelganger a full view of his pale, but chiseled, stomach muscles, which are currently being oh-so- attractively illuminated by the soft light of the Full Moon.

Damon can no longer bring himself to look at Elena's face. And yet, he can still feel her staring right through him, with those intensely intelligent, seemingly all knowing, dark eyes of hers. "He'll know, Elena," Damon utters regretfully. "He'll see my bite marks on your chest. And he'll know . . . ."

_He's worried about Klaus seeing the marks on my body, and knowing I'm not Katherine. _Elena thinks. Immediately, she rushes back toward Damon, closing the gap between them. "Klaus will never get close enough to me to see _this_. If he does, I swear it will be the last sight he ever sees," she explains fiercely, motioning toward the all-important dagger, coated with white oak dust, now lying on the ground, on top of her jacket.

After a beat, Elena begins kissing Damon's neck, a personal favorite body part of his, as far as erogenous zones go. A smile curls across Damon's lips, as he closes his eyes, and allows himself to get carried away, once again. His mind slowly starts to wander to more sensual things. And he begins to forget what had stopped him from impulsively biting Elena, in the first place.

In the past, Damon had always offered a fashionable neck scarf to his "bite victims." But that wasn't going to work . . . not this time. Damon slowly reopened his eyes. "I'm not talking about Klaus," he replies sadly.

This succinct statement hits Elena like a firm slap in the face, painfully waking her from the lustful trance she has found herself in for the past few minutes. Her eyes immediately well up with tears, as she backs away from Damon, first slowly, then more rapidly. Still unsteady in Katherine's heels, Elena trips over the white oak dagger, and falls backward onto the grass.

Now seated on the ground, her ankle and backside smarting with pain, Elena puts her head in her hands, and begins to sob silently. Damon, who feels more than partly responsible for the pair's "indiscretion," as well as their most recent change in mood, deeply longs to comfort the woman he loves. Seeing Elena in pain, because of something he SAID and did, nearly kills Damon. And yet, instinctively, he knows that what Elena needs now, more than anything, is space.

Suddenly, the sound of slow, exaggerated, clapping fills the air. "Bravo. A truly inspired performance, I must say," says a sultry feminine voice.

In unison, Damon and Elena both turn in the direction of the sound. Their faces become mirrored masks of shock and horror, as Katherine Petrova emerges from the darkness . . .


	4. Chapter 4

Within seconds, Damon has Katherine up against a tree, his left hand wrapped tightly around her neck, and his right arm digging forcefully into her hip, to keep her from wriggling out of his grasp. "What are you doing here?" Damon growls menacingly, his face, just inches away from the woman, who, over the course of 140 plus years, has transitioned from the Love of his Life, to his Sworn Enemy, to his Tentative Ally.

Watching Damon attack Katherine, churns up a myriad of complicated emotions in Elena, not all of which, she will allow herself to recognize. Katherine looks SO MUCH like Elena in this moment, clad in _her_ favorite blue shirt and most comfortable pair of jeans, her long straight hair, splayed not-at-all unattractively across her face. It is impossible to watch this exchange take place, and NOT be reminded of what Damon and Elena were doing with one another, just moments before . . . back when _Elena _too been pinned up against a tree by the elder Salvatore Brother.

Elena can still feel Damon's touch on her skin, his lips on her mouth, the way his torso pressed up against hers, in an intense moment of passion between them. Her hair now smells undeniably of his cologne, her neck and chest, of his natural musk.

Elena's skin tingles at the memory of Damon's body. And her heart still burns from the realization of her cruel unfaithfulness to Stefan, and the knowledge that this unfaithfulness was more than just an impulsive action brought on by extreme circumstance. Elena's mind and heart have been unfaithful as well . . . and continue to be unfaithful, with each passing moment.

But what frustrates and shocks Elena the most is her _jealousy._ She is _jealous_ of Katherine, for being able to feel Damon's hot breath on her face, while Elena waits alone in the darkness. And the fact that her doppelganger is so obviously enjoying herself right now certainly doesn't help matters.

Elena wraps her arms around her chest, and shivers exaggeratedly, in an attempt to exorcise these complicated, undoubtedly sexual, thoughts from her mind, and focus on the matter at hand. _What IS Katherine doing here? Why isn't she with Klaus, pretending to be HER, and preparing for The Sacrifice? And where is Stefan, during all this?_

For a moment, Katherine appears genuinely frightened, but not of Damon . . . of something else _. . . _something _far _more sinister. Still pinned to the tree, Katherine looks back over her shoulder, as if waiting for someone or _something_ to arrive. Then, in a flash, the fear in her eyes disappears. She is Katherine again. And Katherine is going to have some fun . . .

"Mmmmm, you smell different Damon," Katherine coos seductively, leaning into Damon's chest and inhaling. "You smell good enough to eat. Almost . . . human" she winked. "But there is something else I smell . . . something familiar. Damon Salvatore, are YOU wearing _my _perfume?"

Elena blushes furiously at the obvious insinuation of that last statement. Earlier in the evening, she had generously applied Katherine's perfume to her neck and chest, in an effort to mask her human scent, and inhabit the ROLE of the Manipulative Vamp more fully. If Katherine can genuinely smell "human" on Damon, just from the few . . . moments he and Elena had spent together, than Klaus would be able to smell "human" on _Elena_, for sure. And then there was the issue of _Stefan's_ olfactory senses . . .

Damon feels his heart throb painfully in his chest. Katherine's "disguise" is having a major effect on him, which is inconvenient, to say the least. While his _mind_ and his _heart_ know full well that this is _not _Elena he is attacking, his body is clearly confused. Damon felt pangs of arousal course through his muscles, and reverberate across his body.

_ Get a hold of yourself Damon! This is Katherine. And she is a THREAT to Elena. You HAVE to protect Elena. _He tells himself, trying to channel his raw sexual energy into the ferocity and intensity he will need now to do what was necessary to get the woman he loves out of danger.

"You didn't answer my question, Katherine. What are you DOING HERE?" Damon repeats, more forcefully this time, his fangs protruding from the sides of his mouth, in anticipation of a fight.

"Oh, I was just out getting some late night exercise . . . Not the same kind of exercise _you two_ have been getting, of course," Katherine replies breathily, casually extending her foot outward, and using it to pointedly rub Damon's upper inner thigh, which, aside from his neck, just so happens to be the Elder Salvatore's SECOND favorite erogenous zone, as Katherine knows quite well.

_ Dammit Katherine!_ Damon closes his eyes for a moment, in grudging ecstasy, before returning to himself. Thinking fast, he throws Katherine from the tree, and tackles her, as she crashes to floor. Katherine doesn't even try to fight back, which frustrates Damon, and frightens him a bit. _What is she hiding?_ He wonders.

Removing a small dagger from his back pocket, Damon straddles Katherine, holding the pointed object just inches above her heart. His hands are shaking from the effort. _Could he really do this?_ _Could he kill the woman he had once vowed to love for all eternity?_ He thinks to himself. _If it means saving Elena . . . YES . . . Yes, he could._ His heart replies.

Katherine chuckles maddeningly, clearly not at all frightened by this most recent attempt made on her life. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she sing-songs.

"Why not, when I would get SO much joy out of watching you die a slow and painful death?" Damon responds with a smile, allowing the dagger to tear into the fabric of Elena's favorite shirt, and touch Katherine's skin.

"Well, for starters - in case you've been so busy boning your brother's _girlfriend _that you've forgotten - you NEED me to continue to impersonate Elena during The Sacrifice, in order to carry out your plan to have _her_ stake Klaus," Katherine answers calmly.

"Silly, Katherine. You aren't the only one who always has a Plan B," Damon bluffs, knowing full well that, despite the "Secret Weapon," he already has waiting for him at the Sacrifice Site, Katherine is still very much an integral part of his plans.

"Also, do you REALLY think that someone as evilly brilliant as Klaus would be _dumb_ enough to let _Elena_ go wandering in the woods, without putting a few protections in place first," Katherine offers, thrusting her body upward ever so slightly into Damon's groin, as the dagger nicks her skin, causing blood to trickle out from the hole in her shirt. "I've been compelled not to leave these forests, except to travel back to the Site. I've also been compelled to KILL anyone who tries to forcibly remove me from the premises, especially one DAMON SALVATORE."

Elena's eyes widen at the implications of Katherine's most recent admission. Having been silent throughout this entire exchange, the Petrova Doppelganger finally finds her voice. "Klaus compelled ME to kill _Damon_? How would I even manage to do that?"

Katherine smiles. "It's true. You are kind of puny, not to mention ridiculously weak. But Klaus thinks of everything, I assure you. Hey Damon, would you mind reaching into my bra, and extracting the objects hidden in there? I'd do it myself, but, you're sitting on my hands."

Damon rolls his eyes, and leans forward onto Katherine, as he reluctantly slides his left hand down the vixen vampire's shirt. Katherine moans lightly, as Damon's hand brushes across her chest, causing a furious Elena to recognize that she COULD definitely kill a vampire . . . if sufficiently provoked.

Damon removes two weapons from Katherine's . . . well _Elena's_ . . . lacy bra, and wonders how he never noticed them there before. In his hands now rest a small dagger, and an object that looks like a small gun, only it is a bit flatter in shape than most guns are. "It shoots wooden stakes," Katherine explains, upon noting the confused expression on Damon's face. "This can be particularly helpful when attempting to kill vampire attackers, who AREN'T sitting right on top of you."

Damon slowly rises, dropping the weapons to the floor. Once free from his weight, Katherine too pushes herself up off the ground. Dusting herself off, and combing the grass and bits of tree out of her hair, she moves toward Elena.

Elena instinctively takes a step backward from her evil identical "twin." "Why did Klaus let you enter the forest, in the first place? Wouldn't it have been easier to just keep you tied up until the Sacrifice?" She inquires cautiously.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on Death Row, Elena. And the opportunity to take a walk in the same woods my parents used to take me hiking in, when I was a child, for one last time, was my _second_ dying request," Katherine explains in her almost nauseatingly innocent 'Elena' voice.

Elena shakes her head involuntarily at Katherine's mention of her parents. _How did SHE know Mom and Dad used to take me hiking in these woods_? She wonders to herself.

"What was your FIRST _dying_ request?" Damon asks suspiciously, his eyes wide and intense, Katherine's unique choice of words having not gone unnoticed by him.

Katherine grins widely, as if she's been waiting for this question, all night long. "Well, I requested one final Conjugal Visit with Stefan, of course."

Elena's whole body tenses up at the mention of Stefan's name, "He wouldn't," she says, though there is uncertainty beneath her words that wouldn't have been there, had this conversation happened an hour earlier.

"No, you're right, Elena, HE _wouldn't_. Because HE actually cares about you, not that you deserve it," Katherine remarks icily.

Katherine's words make Elena feel as though SHE has been shot with a stake gun. _Katherine is right. I don't deserve Stefan. I don't deserve either of them. _"Is he OK?" Elena whispers.

"Who, Stefan? Oh, he's fine . . . for NOW," Katherine answers menacingly.

"Are you going to tell him . . . about this?" Elena asks, with a mixture of fear and guilt

Katherine approaches Elena, cupping the latter's hand in her cheek. On the surface, the gesture seems loving and affectionate. But Elena knows all too well the venom that lies beneath. "And use up the best piece of blackmail I have on you two, without getting something in return? You should know, by now, that's not how I work."

Damon looks at Elena, and is pained by the fear in her eyes and the sadness in her voice. Though there's a part of him that would _love_ for Stefan to dump Elena, so that he could have her all to himself, he knows that ending the relationship in _this_ way would destroy Elena. And that's not something he could bear. "What do you want us to do, Katherine? What will it take for you to keep quiet about what you saw here tonight?" Damon asks reluctantly.

Elena meets Damon's eyes now, for first time, since Katherine has arrived. The look they share with one another only lasts seconds, but it speaks volumes. Realizing the extent of what Damon is willing to sacrifice for her happiness, makes Elena feel incredibly guilty, for all that she has put him through since they met. But it also makes her fall even more deeply in love with him than ever before.

Katherine silently circles back toward Damon, until she is just inches away from him. She places her pointer finger on his chest and trails it town his bare stomach. "Dumb Damon . . . always falling for the wrong girl. Don't you realize she's going to go back to Stefan, as soon as she's done with you?"

"It's always going to be Stefan for _her_, Damon, just like it was for me. She's exactly like me, Damon. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."

Damon cringes silently at Katherine's words. _Is she right? Could Elena just be using him, like Katherine did, all those years ago? Was his tragic history doomed to repeat itself again, century after century? _

"I'm nothing like YOU, Katherine," Elena hisses, as if in answer to Damon's silent inquiries. "I'd rather DIE, than be anything like you."

Katherine laughs. "Well, THAT could certainly be arranged," She threatens, moving away from Damon, and lifting her weapons from the floor. "Speaking of Klaus, I really should be going. I have a Sacrifice to attend. It's been _swell _catching up with you two. And as for that question you asked me earlier, Damon, I'll definitely keep you posted."

In a flash, Katherine disappears from the forest, almost as if she was never there . . .

Damon turns toward Elena, who is now just staring at the ground, trying to process what just happened. Upon seeing Damon watching her, Elena attempts to act brave and nonchalant. "Well, THAT was disturbing," she manages to remark.

Damon smiles sadly at Elena, and nods. "Yes . . . yes it was."

Elena laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of their current circumstances. Damon observes her quietly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sure enough, it does. Elena's laughter quickly turns to tears.

Leaning down, Damon gently strokes at Elena's closed eyes with his index finger, wiping the salty wetness away. "We're going to get through this, you know. It may not seem like it now, but we will," he whispers to her, with more confidence than he feels.

Elena then surprises Damon, by throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace, her head lodged comfortably in his chest. Damon closes his eyes, and wraps his left arm around Elena's waist. Then, with his right arm, he begins gently stroking her hair. They stand together like that for a few moments, finding comfort in the closeness of one another.

It is Damon who, reluctantly, pulls away first. Kissing Elena gently on the forehead, and grabbing her warm hands in both of his, he speaks to her softly. "We have to go now," he tells her.

Elena gives his hands a tight squeeze, before letting go, "I know," she says, turning away from Damon , to retrieve the articles of clothing they both had left on the floor earlier. "Oooh, you got some grass stains on your . . ."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Elena is startled by the sound of Damon's earth-shattering scream. She turns to find him lying on the floor writhing in pain, his hands both clasping at his head. "DAMON," she yells, rushing quickly to his side.

Leaning over his body, Elena begins to stroke Damon's forehead, and press down on his chest, in an attempt to, somehow, take his pain away. But it is of no use. Damon's face, which had been pinched together in anguish, suddenly goes slack, as he falls into unconsciousness.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Elena cries.

Suddenly, Elena feels an acrid smelling rag being placed over her nose and mouth, and her body being pulled forcibly off Damon. She struggles violently, trying to pry the hand holding the rag off of her face. But the more she struggles, the more lightheaded she begins to feel. And then, everything goes black . . .


	5. Chapter 5

Elena Gilbert blinks rapidly, in an attempt to correct her vision. She still feels incredibly groggy. Her mouth is uncomfortably dry. But her senses are slowly returning to her. Of course, once Elena actually ascertains her surroundings, she wishes she had remained in "blissful" ignorance, for just a little while longer . . .

Elena is in a cage . . . well . . . more like an old jail cell, fashioned out of crudely-constructed, rusted steel bars. Seated on a bench in front of Elena, staring at her, like she is a not-particularly-interesting zoo animal, is a woman to whom she had never been personally introduced. But Elena knows who she is, nevertheless. This is a woman who had recently wreaked havoc in the lives of all of her friends . . . a woman Elena wants dead.

"Jules," Elena says matter-of-factly, her voice sounding hoarse and raspy, a side effect of her recent boats of screaming, and of her being unconscious for who knows how long.

"Hello, Elena," replies Jules, with maddening calm.

"Where's Damon? What did you do with him, you heinous bitch?" Elena snarls, her eyes narrow, and her hands ball into furious fists.

As if on cue, a steel door opens to Elena's left. Two men in black enter the room, carrying something large and heavy. They throw it into the cage next to Elena, and slam the door shut, locking it. When Damon's head hits the cold, hard ground next to Elena, he doesn't even react.

"Damon!" Elena cries, falling to her knees, and reaching her arm through the adjoining cage bars.

Elena grabs Damon's outstretched arm, and tries to feel for a pulse. She feels nothing. "He's not . . . he can't be . . . oh God!"

"He's alive . . . barely . . . if you can even call that sort of existence living," replies Jules, examining her nails, as she speaks. "Don't get me wrong, I REALLY wanted to kill him . . . for what he did to Mason . . . what he did to my pack. But the Sacrifice requires a vampire. And I can't think of a more fitting candidate. Can you?"

Elena's eyes refuse to leave Damon's face, as she runs her fingers through his hair through the bars of her cell. Damon's eyes flutter, ever so slightly, in response to her touch. And a small smile curves across his lips. _Classic Damon! _Elena lets out a sigh of relief.

"You genuinely do love him, don't you?" Jules asks, a bit wistfully.

"That's really none of your business," replies Elena, as her fingers explore the smooth curves of Damon's face. He looks oddly peaceful, almost as if he is just sleeping, and not in some witch-induced semi-coma.

_I do love him. _Elena hears a voice inside herself say. _I've always loved him_. _I was just never willing to let myself believe it. And now we might both die, without him never truly knowing how I feel about him . . ._

"I loved someone, once. His name was Brady. And your OTHER boyfriend killed him," replies Jules, interrupting Elena's reverie.

"I'm sorry about that," Elena replies, and she is surprised to find that she actually means it.

"Me too," responds Jules.

"Seeing as how you're planning on killing me anyway, can I ask you a few questions?" Elena inquires, slowly rising and gripping her hands around the bars at the front of her cell.

"I don't see why not," Jules answers, leaning forward on the bench like an overzealous prospective employee at a job interview.

"How did you find us?" Elena asks.

"Katherine. It turns out your Evil Twin isn't quite as good at impersonating you as she thought. Klaus figured her out immediately. And, yet, somehow, she managed to escape with the Moonstone. She found me in the woods, and we brokered a deal. She'd get me the Moonstone and you, in exchange for my pack ensuring her safety. She sent out a signal, as soon as she found you and Damon, and stalled you, until we could get there."

"Who's _we_?"

"Aaron and I . . . Aaron's got abilities . . . kind of like your witch friend, Bonnie."

"He's the one that did this to Damon," Elena says, angrily. _Aaron's ONE DEAD WARLOCK!_

"Yes . . . he's also the one that's managed to push off our normal werewolf transformation for another couple of days, while we prepare for the Sacrifice. At least one of us will have to remain human throughout it, in order to perform the ritual."

"Where are we now?" Elena inquires.

"I'm afraid THAT'S something I cannot answer," insists Jules. "Any other questions?"

"Just one," Elena responds. "When are you leaving? I'm tired of looking at you."

Jules smirks. "Right now, actually. One of my associates will be by in about twenty minutes to give you some food."

"I can't wait," hisses Elena.

Jules pulls open the steel door, and begins to leave. Then, she pauses, and turns back toward Elena. "I'm sorry we are going to have to kill you, Elena. You seem like a really nice girl. Under other circumstances, I bet we could have been friends," she offers.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that," Elena replies.

Jules chuckles a bit, and closes the door behind her.

Twenty minutes . . . that's how long they had to find a way out of this mess. _OK. It's time for Damon to wake up from his little nap. _Elena thinks to herself. "Get up, Sleepyhead. It's time for a jailbreak," Elena insists, prodding Damon's muscled shoulder insistently with her finger.

Damon groans and shivers. Suddenly, he's not looking so healthy. Beads of sweat are pouring from his forehead, something Elena didn't even think was possible for a vampire. He begins to moan and mumble incoherently. Elena feels her eyes blur with tears for about the eighth time in the past twenty four hours. Damon's condition is rapidly deteriorating, and her twenty-minute window of opportunity seems to be, slowly but surely, closing.

Elena puts her face next to the bars, and grabs hold of Damon's hand, again wishing she can take some of his pain away. It kills her to see him like this, and not be able to hug him . . . to feel her body next to his. Damon's skin feels cold and clammy. And she can't help but wonder what the heck happened to his shirt . . . not to mention her jacket.

"Damon, listen to me, you have to get better, OK? I can't go through this without you. I need you, Damon."

"Stefan . . ." Damon whispers hoarsely. "Take . . . care . . . of . . . Elena . . . for me."

Elena's eyes widen at Damon's words. He may be under a spell. And he may be delirious. But it sounds like he's saying goodbye. "DAMON! Stop talking like that! You are NOT GOING TO DIE! Do you hear me! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

"Tell Elena . . . I love her . . . more than life . . . more than I loved . . . being . . . human," Damon utters, his voice fading.

Elena is full-on sobbing now. This is it. They aren't going to make it. "I love you too, Damon!" She gasps. "But I'll never forgive you, if you leave me like this!"

"So . . . thirsty," Damon replies.

"Thirsty? YOU'RE thirsty! I FINALLY manage to declare my love for you, and all you can talk about is water! Damn, you Damon!" Elena cries, slapping his face repeatedly through the bars.

That's when it hits her. Suddenly, Elena knows exactly how she and Damon are going to get themselves out of this mess. Quickly Elena, kicks off one of Katherine's ridiculously high stiletto heels, and smashes it into her wrist, slicing deep into her skin. She cringes from the pain, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Then, she waits, as the blood pours forth from her wrist, just as it did from Damon's earlier that day.

Thrusting her wrist through the jail cell bars, Elena just barely manages to reach Damon's face. _Thank goodness for my super skinny arms!_ She thinks to herself. The feel of Damon's lips on her skin again, is sheer heaven. She moves in closer, and waits. Suddenly, she feels Damon begin to stir, as the scent of her blood hits his nostrils.

Damon's lips brush against Elena's wrist, and quickly redden with the color of her blood. His eyes are still closed. But there is more life behind them now . . . a sense of purpose beneath those long-lashed lids.

Then the fangs come out. Elena feels a light pinprick on her arm, a warning of what's to come. A quiet growl escapes Damon's throat, and he bites down . . . hard. The pain shoots through her entire body, like a knife to the gut.

Elena gasps and shuts her eyes. But then, everything changes. The indescribable pain she was feeling just moments ago morphs into sheer and utter pleasure. It courses through her veins like a bolt of lightning. Elena moans sensuously, as a knot of tension releases itself from her muscles. Hearing Damon's heart beat quicken, she knows her blood is working. And that he is feeling exactly the same thing she is experiencing right now.

A rush of memories flood through Elena's mind in rapid succession: the first time she met Damon at the Salvatore house, the first time he tried to compel her, in the school parking lot, the time he rescued her from that car accident, the drinking contest at the bar in Georgia, where Elena kicked Damon's ass, their fun, but undoubtedly erotic dances at the Mystic Falls pageant and at the 60's-themed School Dance, the first time he told her he loved her, and compelled her to forget it, their embrace, after Rose's death, and, finally, their heated and passionate rendezvous out in the forest, just a few hours earlier. . .

Elena must have passed out for a few moments. Because, when she opens her eyes, Damon is already prying open the bars on her jail cell, just as he had done to his own, a few seconds earlier. Having feasted on her blood, Damon looks stronger than ever. On his face is a broad smirk that is maddeningly sexual.

Elena rushes from the cell into Damon's arms, crying and laughing at the same time. He pushes her up against the cell and they begin to kiss passionately. "I know you love me, Elena Gilbert. I heard you say it. There's no taking it back now," Damon whispers in her ear.

Then, suddenly, the steel door opens, causing Elena to jump at the sound. "Tyler?" She inquires.

_Klaus saunters through a long winding corridor, until he reaches an office at the end of the hall. A woman is seated at the desk, reading. Standing behind her is a very tall man, clad in a brown leather jacket. "Can I help you?" The woman inquires._

"_You must be Jules. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet. My name is Klaus."_

_Jules begins to scramble from her desk. But it is too late. She's already made the fatal mistake of looking the most Powerful Vampire in the World directly in the eye. Klaus hands her a gun. She takes it dazedly. "And now, you will shoot yourself in the head."_


	6. Chapter 6

The growl that erupts from Damon, when he first lays eyes on Tyler Lockwood, literally shakes the floor beneath Elena's feet. Tyler too seems primed for battle, with his fists clenched, and a snarl on his lips. His eyes rapidly change color from hazelnut to a glowing gold. _This can't end well_. Elena reasons, trying to position herself between the two alpha males, in order to prevent the inevitable from happening.

"Damon!" Elena warns sternly under her breath, "Don't do this!"

But even the voice of the woman he loves isn't enough to stop Damon when he's in Protection Mode. He and Tyler begin to circle one another slowly, like two boxers, as Elena stands in the center of the imaginary circle, her arms are outstretched, like a referee. "I'd listen to her if I were you, Damon," threatens Tyler. "If it weren't for some warlock spell, I'd be a werewolf right now. And I think you know what that means. There's no telling what this body can do in its current state."

"Oh, roll over and play dead, Doggie! Because that's what you are going to be, when I'm through with you," Damon retorts through his fangs.

"Listen, I get why you don't trust me," offers Tyler, still maintaining his fighting stance. "Heck, if I were you, I probably wouldn't trust me either. But, like it or not, I'm currently the only one in this room who knows exactly where we are, and how to get out of here. And I actually want to help _you_ . . . well . . . help _you_, help Elena," he concludes, looking his childhood friend directly in the eye, as he says the last part.

Damon scoffs, "Why the hell should I believe . . ."

Suddenly, a gunshot is heard, just down the hallway, causing the threesome to stop what they are doing, and turn toward the door, in unison. Even though the shots were fired nowhere near her, Damon instinctively throws his own body over Elena's, to shield her from harm. "That wasn't what I think it was? Was it?" Elena asks nervously, her face still buried in Damon's bare chest.

"That depends. Did you _think_ it was the sound of a 9 MM handgun, fired at close range in Jules' forehead, causing her head to explode, and bits of her bloody skull to splatter across a nearby wall, like a Jackson Pollock painting?" Damon deadpans.

Elena pulls away from him, her nose crinkled in disgust. "Well, thank you, Damon. I wasn't planning on eating for the rest of my life, _anyway_. And now you've gone and made sure that I _can't_."

Tyler hasn't moved, since the gun went off. His eyes are wide with fear, and his jaw hangs slightly open. He is clearly in shock. Elena moves toward him and grabs his hand in her own. "I'm sorry, Tyler. I know she was your friend," she offers sympathetically

"_I'm_ not sorry," Damon adds with a smirk, causing Elena to ever so casually kick him in the knee with her high heel. "OW! That hurt!" He whines.

Tyler is still so taken back by Jules' untimely demise that Damon's not-so-subtle insult barely registers with him. "I mean, it's not like we were really even friends," Tyler says, more to himself than to anybody else. "And I'm pretty sure she was planning to use me in that weird ritual she kidnapped you guys for. But Jules was there for me, when nobody else was. And now she's gone. It's just . . . weird."

"That's touching . . . really," Damon snarks. "But I'm pretty sure whoever shot Jules is heading for us, next. So, if you are planning to rescue us, Wolf Boy, now would be a really good time to actually do it."

"Right," says Tyler, coming back to himself. "Follow me"

Elena looks up at Damon, and nods her head slowly. He smiles down at her and gives her subtle wink, attempting to put on a brave face, for her sake. But Elena sees through the façade, and knows he's as terrified as she is. But Damon's fear has little to do with his own existence and continued livelihood. He is petrified of losing Elena . . . to Klaus . . . to_ death_ . . . to an afterlife that he may never personally experience.

As if reading Damon's mind, Elena whispers in his ear. "You're not getting rid of me that fast, Damon Salvatore."

Elena then tugs at the vampire's arm, gently lacing her long slim fingers through his. He returns the gesture, by giving her hand a determined squeeze. Then, together, hands clasped, they rush out after Tyler . . .

Caroline Forbes glances quickly in her rear view mirror, and curses under her breath, as she drives to the spot where he told her to meet him. "I must be completely insane," Caroline says out loud.

Less than ten minutes ago, Caroline was asleep in her bed. She was having this awesome dream, in which she was crowned Prom Queen, and the entire senior class at Mystic Falls High was chanting her name. The sound of a cell phone vibrating next to her head gave her a rather rude awakening. According to the digital clock on her nightstand, it was just after 3 a.m.

Immediately, recalling that tonight was the night of The Big Sacrifice, Caroline's throat began to close up. There was a tightness in her chest. Getting a text message at this hour was not a good sign . . . AT ALL! Caroline took a deep breath, before reaching for the phone. But the message Caroline received wasn't from Stefan, or Bonnie, or anyone else, who was part of the plan to kill Klaus, and rescue Elena, that night. It was from someone else, entirely . . .

"Caroline. I'm sorry for everything. There's so much I want to tell you. But right now I need you to meet me at Gulliver's Rest Stop, off of Highway 22. It's a matter of life and death. This is not a joke – Tyler."

If Tyler's "matter of life and death," sentiment wasn't enough to get her moving, her curiosity definitely was. Caroline had never gotten ready so quickly for anything in her life. She wasn't even wearing any makeup!

Now she was parked at a random rest stop, waiting for Tyler to make an appearance. The silence in the car, and the randomness of it all, were causing her to question every single decision she had made, since 3 o'clock that morning . . .

An insistent knock on her passenger side window woke Caroline out of her reverie. It was Tyler, staring down at her, with those intense brown eyes of his. Maddeningly, all it took was one look from Tyler, and all the emotions Caroline had allowed to lie dormant, over the past month, came bubbling back to the surface. There was a part of Caroline that wanted to drive away, and leave Tyler stranded in the woods. (He would certainly deserve it, after all he had put her through!) But, instead, she leaned over and unlocked the car door.

Caroline heard a firm exhale of breath, as Tyler slid into the car beside her. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me, like this," offered Tyler with a nervous gulp. "You look great, by the way."

Caroline's head whipped toward Tyler. Now he'd done it! Tyler's nonchalance and bashful compliment of her appearance had the unintended effect of sending Caroline into a Super Hyper Warp-Speed Tirade of Epic Proportions. The words and emotions just kept pouring out of Caroline's very overactive mouth, before she could censor or stop them.

"THAT'S all you have to say to me, Tyler? I look _great_? That's it? After all this time? Not, 'Sorry my Werefriends are such ASSHATS, Caroline!' 'I'm sorry they trapped you in a cage, and repeated SHOT YOU IN THE HEAD, while I watched.' Or 'I'm sorry you got the STUFFING kicked out of you!' 'And I'm sorry I betrayed you, after all we had been through together.' You just up and LEFT, Tyler! You left, without telling ANYBODY where you were going, or when you'd be back."

"I thought you WANTED me to leave, Caroline. You seemed pretty intent on my getting the hell out of your life," replies Tyler, focusing on his lap.

"I WAS! I mean, I AM . . . but . . . you didn't have to actually LEAVE! You weren't supposed to leave! You damn coward! You were supposed to _stay_, and face your problems, and apologize to the people you had hurt, and prove to them that they were _wrong_ about you. You were SUPPOSED to be the better man Tyler . . . the man that I still know that you can be . . . the man that I know you already_ are_. You weren't supposed to send a TEXT MESSAGE at 3 a.m.!"

Suddenly, Tyler forcefully grabs Caroline's arms, and presses his lips to hers. It was something he had dreamt about doing every single day, since he left Mystic Falls. And now, here he was, in Caroline's car, living the Dream.

Caught off guard, by Tyler's impulsive action, Caroline gasps, as Tyler's tongue hungrily probes the inside of her mouth. She moves her hand toward either side of his face, in an attempt to push him off of her. But, instead, Caroline finds herself, caressing Tyler's cheeks, and chiseled jaw line, as she moves in closer to him. Eventually, she sighs, and gives in to the hungriest, and most passionate kiss, she's experienced in her entire lifetime, not to mention, _undead-_time!

Finally, Caroline comes to her senses, long enough to break free from the spell Tyler clearly has over her. She slaps him in the face . . . hard. Tyler blinks, his cheek raw and red from the impact. "You can't just keep kissing me, every time I try to have a heated conversation with you, Tyler Lockwood. It doesn't work that way! You just infuriate me sometimes, Tyler. I mean . . . you have no right to . . . oh dammit!"

Caroline throws up her hands in exasperation, and pulls Tyler in for yet another kiss. This one is even more greedy, insistent, and hungry than the one that preceded it, if that's even possible. Both parties feel the strength of emotion behind this second kiss, and the eruption of emotions it causes within them is terrifying for them both. This time, they pull away from one another at the same time. Caroline sighs resignedly, as she reinserts the key in her car's ignition. "This discussion is NOT over, Tyler Lockwood."

"I know," he replies, with a slight smile.

"I have NOT yet forgiven you," she continues vehemently.

"I know."

"And I am CERTAINLY never kissing you again!" Caroline adds, knowing even as she says it, that the statement is COMPLETELY untrue.

"I believe you . . . Now, drive around the back to the parking lot, and open your car's back door," he instructs.

Caroline does as Tyler says. And she is shocked. and a bit disturbed. to find two forms, sheathed in the same black tarp, rushing quickly toward her car. "Those aren't your evil WereOaf Friends, are they Tyler?"

"No, they are definitely not werewolves," replies Tyler, shaking his head insistently.

"I better not regret, this," she insists, as the Black Tarp enters the car, and, in doing so, reveals its two wearers: Damon and Elena. "Omigod Elena! Are you OK? What the heck happened to you guys? And why are you wearing that ridiculous black sack over your heads?"

"Thank you for coming to get us, Caroline. And I promise I will explain all of this to you very soon. But, for now, I just need you to drive far and fast, away from here," offers Elena

"Emphasis on the FAR and the FAST," adds Damon, before the two of them re-cover themselves with the tarp, and lay down together across the length of the back seat.

Caroline starts the car, and begins driving. Meanwhile, in the back seat, Damon is snuggled close to Elena, underneath the black tarp. Elena can feel his hot breath on her face. And his warmth radiates onto her. Ever so subtly, Damon begins to absentmindedly move his left hand across Elena's body, starting at her feet, and slowly, but surely, working his way up. Elena gasps in pleasure when he reaches the . . . halfway point. Man, he's GOOD at this!

"Damon . . . this is not the place," she whispers in his ear.

"It was an accident," he whispers back, smugly.

But then Damon starts methodically kissing Elena's neck and chest. And it's clear that this is _no _accident. Finally, Elena relents, and starts kissing Damon back, exploring the curves of his body with the same intensity and eagerness with which he has been exploring hers, just moments earlier.

It was never this way with Stefan. Elena never felt this unbridled, this overcome by lust, before. She certainly didn't experience this insistent, and ever-present, desire to jump _Stefan's_ bones, every time she was with _him_.

Elena's love for Damon is a fire burning inside her heart. And it is all-consuming. Here she is, on the run from Klaus, possibly living out the last few moments of her life, in the backseat of her best friend's car. And yet, all she can think about is touching Damon, kissing Damon, and _loving_ Damon.

It's inappropriate and illogical. And yet, in some ways, it makes total and complete sense. After all, if Elena is, in fact, going to die tonight, why not go out in a blaze of glory, and pleasure?

"If we make it through this, we have to tell him," Elena whispers pointedly into Damon's chest. "After all he's done for me, I owe him that much."

Damon nods silently, his head buried in the crook of Elena's soft and downy neck, his sad expression shielded from Elena, by the darkness of the tarp. "I know . . . but not tonight. OK? Let's focus on one life-altering catastrophe at a time, shall we?"

"Agreed," replies Elena.

The sounds of whispers, kisses, moans, hard breathing, and heavy petting, do not go unnoticed by Tyler and Caroline, as they continue to drive "far and fast" away from Elena's potential attackers. Caroline raises an eyebrow at Tyler, who just shakes his head and smiles. "I know . . . don't ask," he warns her.

But the more insistent the sexual sounds from the backseat become, the more aroused Caroline and Tyler_ themselves_ get, much to their chagrin. They try desperately not to look at one another, but the naughty thoughts running through both of their heads make it nearly impossible to do that. Inappropriate indeed!

At one point, both Caroline and Tyler reach their hands out toward the dashboard to turn on the radio, and their arms brush against one another, sending currents of passion, shooting through both of their bodies simultaneously. Caroline blushes, and pulls her hand back. "That was rude of me. You're riding shotgun, you should get to choose the soundtrack," Caroline mumbles, in a feeble attempt to cover up what just happened between them.

Eager to muffle the X-rated sounds coming from the backseat, Tyler turns up the volume on the radio. But the reception is unusually lousy on this stretch of road, and only a few channels come in. Duran, Duran's "Hungry Like a Wolf" blares from the speakers of Caroline's car, only furthering Tyler's embarrassment. He changes the station, and finds "Vampires will Never Hurt You," by My Chemical Romance. Caroline cringes. Tyler changes the channel again. This time the song on the air is "Make Me Wanna Die," by Pretty Reckless.

"Ummm . . .Caroline? I think your car is possessed," Tyler notes, only half-jokingly.

As if on cue, Caroline's car stalls out. She tries repeatedly to restart the engine, but has no luck. Oddly enough, her gas tanks reads "Full." And everything in her car appears to be in working order. In fact, Caroline just got the car's oil changed, just a weak prior! None of this makes any sense!

A very disheveled, half-dressed, Elena, emerges from beneath the tarp. "Why are we stopping?" She inquires with concern.

Suddenly, the car is moving again. The problem, of course, is that, now, it is moving _in reverse_ . . . even though Caroline has, at this point, taken her keys out of the ignition, and is no longer driving it herself.

"Ummm . . . guys?" Caroline squeaks. "Whoever's been chasing you, lately . . . uh . . . I think it's pretty safe to say they've found us."


	7. Chapter 7

Caroline nervously adjusts her rearview mirror. Peering into it, she can see a tall blonde man dressed in an expensive suit. He is giving specific instructions to a man and a woman, both dark-haired, and clad in black. The threesome is hovered over a rather ancient-looking book. "The blonde guy . . . that's Klaus?" Caroline inquires.

Tyler glances over his shoulder, so he can see for himself the "blonde guy" to whom Caroline is referring. He nods solemnly and turns to Damon. "He's not so big. I think we can take him. What do you say?" He offers boldly.

Damon smirks. "Well, of COURSE, we could take him. I'm actually more concerned about his two little witchy pals, back there. For all we know, they've been compelled to turn us into frogs, if we get within two feet of them."

"So, we can't fight him . . . and we, obviously, can't drive AWAY. So, what ARE we supposed to do?" Caroline asks insistently.

"YOU don't have to do anything. This is my fight, guys. And I'm going to surrender to him. Maybe, if I do that, he'll let you all go. And we can FINALLY put a stop to all this" Elena replies stoically.

"Elena . . ." Caroline cautions.

"No, Caroline! I'm tired of running. And I'm tired of putting everyone's lives in danger. It ends now," interrupts Elena defiantly, sliding over to open the passenger side back door.

In a flash, Damon's whole body is blocking the door, arms outstretched. Elena quickly moves toward the other door, but Damon gets _there _first (assuming the same undeniably attractive position) before Elena can maneuver herself around him. _Damn you, Damon, and your Vampire Speed! _ Elena thinks to herself. Thinking fast, she reaches out her left arm to slap Damon, but he grabs it. She then raises her right arm, but he grabs THAT one too.

Quickly running out of options, Elena forcefully knees Damon in the groin. He yelps in pain, losing his grasp on her hands for a brief moment. Elena uses this time to reach for the door again, but Caroline child-locks it. "Caroline, open the damn door," Elena growls, as Damon tackles her, pinning her to the seat with his six-pack abs and firmly muscled forearms.

Damon and Elena are both breathing heavily now. Damon keeps his weight on top of Elena, his bare chest arched suggestively above her. The couple's faces are just inches away from one another. Elena can feel Damon's hot breath on her face. His heart beat increases steadily, in time with her own. "Let GO, Damon!" Elena snarls.

Damon's eyes widen almost comically, as they tend to do, when he is in one of his "intense" moods. Instinctively, Damon's nostrils flare, taking in Elena's uniquely intoxicating scent. His obvious arousal is highly inconvenient, under the circumstances. "I'm not having this conversation with you again, Elena. I told you before, and I will tell you again. I . . . am . . . not . . . letting . . . you . . . DIE!"

A firm wrap on the window interrupts the heated exchange. "Oooh, crap . . . crappity, crap, crap," whines Caroline.

"Whatever you do, DO NOT look him straight in the eye," Damon says under his breath. "He can compel any one of us."

"Except me," Elena adds breathlessly, glaring fiercely at Damon, who is still on top of her, and showing no signs of going ANYWHERE, anytime soon.

Slowly, the window near Damon's head begins to roll down, seemingly on its own. "I swear, I didn't do that," pleads Caroline, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Klaus inquires.

"No, actually I was just about to . . MRRRRRMPH," Elena begins to speak, but Damon quickly places his hand over her mouth, to prevent her from doing so.

So, she bites him . . . _hard_.

Damon flinches, shaking out his throbbing hand, while purposefully keeping his eyes trained on the newly formed teeth marks near his wrist. _Man! She's got strong choppers for a human! _Damon thinks to himself, clearly impressed. _Hmmm . . . I wonder how those teeth would feel on my . . ._

Klaus rudely interrupts Damon's naughty thoughts. "Ingredients for The Moonstone Sacrifice . . ." begins the Original Vampire, as if reading aloud from a book he already knows by heart. "One Moonstone . . . check," he begins, throwing the white rock up and deftly catching it in his hand. "One Petrova Doppelganger . . . check," Klaus continues, taking a quick glance inside the car to see Elena, who is still lying on her back, beneath Damon.

Klaus then pokes his head in the window and takes an exaggerated sniff, causing Tyler to cringe. Unfortunately, the cursed teen knows exactly where this is going, "One werewolf . . . check . . . and, finally, TWO vampires . . . for the price of one . . . double check. Talk about one-stop shopping!"

"Maddox, bring the chains from the trunk," Klaus calls back to the male warlock he was chatting with earlier. When the man arrives, carrying the chains, Klaus motions toward Tyler, who is still keeping his head down, to stave off compulsion. Maddox walks around the car, toward Tyler's window. Caroline locks it quickly, but it is of no avail. The window opens slowly, and before Tyler can move, Maddox has both his hands on the young man's forehead. He then begins to chant.

Tyler immediately feels the transformative change come over him. A now-familiar pain rips through his entire body. His screams of anguish echo throughout the car. And yet, this time is decidedly different from his first transformation Tyler endured, which took place over multiple hours. Tyler already can feel his bones bending into their new shape. Coarse dark hairs begin to sprout on the back of his neck and forearms.

Tyler feels his nose being painfully pulled and stretched into a snout. Already his logical "human" mind is growing hazy, unable to form coherent words and complete sentences. All he has left now are moods, feelings and instincts. Not surprisingly, these are all telling him to get out of the car fast, before he hurts his friends, before he hurts . . . Caroline. Tyler is now scrambling on all fours, scratching at the door of the car, trying desperately to break free.

Then, suddenly, Tyler feels tight, and extremely heavy, chains, snapping closed around his neck and arms. He howls, struggling to break free from captivity. If he just bucks hard enough, he knows he can break free from these chains. Tyler growls in anguish, pushing against the chains with all his might. Then he feels a volt of electricity, shoot through his neck, and course through the back of his spine. The last things that Tyler remembers hearing are the sounds of two human females screaming. And then, everything goes black . . .

"TYLER!" Caroline cries, her face drenched with tears.

Now, it is Caroline's turn to growl, as one thought goes through her mind: _Save Tyler, and KILL his captor!_ She feels her fangs push through her mouth, and a power course through her temples. There is a definite sharpening of Caroline's senses that comes with "vamping out." The idea of possessing all this raw power, used to scare Caroline half to death. But now she relishes it. NO ONE messes with Vampire Barbie's friends, and gets away with it!

"Caroline DON'T! Don't look at him!" Elena cautioned.

But it is too late. Caroline has already lashed out at Maddox. In a flash, Klaus is outside the driver side window, staring Caroline straight in the face. Within seconds, Caroline's fangs retract. Her face returns to normal. And a dazed expression falls over her countenance.

"You will follow Maddox, and do exactly as he says, no matter what he says. You will not, under any circumstances, try to rescue the werewolf. Do you understand?" Klaus commands the now-entranced Caroline.

"Yes, I understand" replies Caroline dreamily, as she exits the car, and walks off with Maddox, who is dragging unconscious Were Tyler, in his wake.

"Dammit Caroline!" Damon growls in frustration.

Damon is shocked to find a massively large wooden stake positioned right at the base of his neck, just barely piercing his skin. He tenses up, as he continues to focus on Elena's warm brown eyes, which are wide with fear. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr. Salvatore. But, since we already have our token vampire for the ceremony, it appears as though your services will no longer be required," says Klaus, getting ready to slice through Damon's neck, with his stake.

"If so much as one drop of blood leaves his body, you will be short one Petrova Doppelganger," challenges Elena.

Klaus takes one look at the human, and stops dead in his tracks. At some point, during all the chaos, Elena has managed to extract a gun from Caroline's purse. She is now holding it to her temple. Damon's eyes widen in horror. "Elena, don't," he pleads with her.

Klaus laughs heartily, but keeps his stake trained on Damon. "You wouldn't have the guts," he challenges.

"Oh, would I?" Elena challenges. "Here's something you should know about me, Klaus. My friends are my life. Without them, I don't see a reason to go on living. And, since you are planning on killing me anyway, why not go out on my own terms? Besides, I have SO much vampire blood in my system by now, there's a really good chance that if I die _this way_, I'll come back a vampire. Tell me Klaus, do you REALLY want another Katherine Petrova on your hands? Are you willing to wait another 500 years for your next shot at this?"

Klaus says nothing, but the determined frown on his face let's Elena know that she has won this battle. "Let Damon live, and I will gladly become your sacrifice. I'll leave this car, right now, and follow you wherever you want me to go. Kill him, and your chances of breaking the curse die with him," Elena says with more courage than she is feeling.

"You have yourself a deal, Little Lady," replies Klaus, slowly lowering his stake to the ground.

Damon stares down at Elena, frightened to death of the prospect of losing her, and monumentally grateful for all she is willing to sacrifice for his safety. On one hand, she's just a teenage girl . . . young, fragile, and generally insignificant to the universe at large. But Damon has never loved someone more in his entire life. Damon's love for Elena expands his heart to a thousand times its size, while shattering it to pieces, simultaneously. "Elena, please, I'm begging you. Don't do this. There's got to be another way," Damon pleads.

Elena sadly shakes her head. There is NO other way, at least as far as she is concerned. "I love you, Damon Salvatore," Elena mouths to Damon, for what may be the very last time.

Before Damon can tell Elena just how much he loves her in return, Klaus magically rips her out of the car. He then disappears. And Damon suddenly feels more alone than he has felt in 160 plus years.

In a rage, Damon systematically throws himself at each door of the vehicle, trying desperately to free himself from its confines. And yet, it is of no use. The car has been magically sealed shut, once again. None of the doors or windows will budge.

Damon then reaches for the gun Elena was holding to her temple, earlier. Thinking fast, he points it toward the window, and shoots. But, alas, all that erupts from the gun, is a small ridiculously, puny flame. Damon laughs bitterly. "It's a frigging lighter . . . I should have known," he mutters.

Suddenly exhausted, Damon lies down across the backseat of Caroline's car, and raises his right hand to his head. Upon doing so, he is surprised to find his face is wet with tears. Damon hadn't even realized that he had been crying. _She's going to die. And it is my fault . . . because I wasn't strong enough to protect her. I wasn't smart enough to keep her alive._ Damon thinks to himself morosely.

The vampire's dark thoughts are interrupted by a sharp clicking sound, coming from just above his head. Damon turns quickly. The car door is open! Elated, Damon rushes from the car to embrace the man who has freed him. "Stefan," Damon whispers, hugging his brother's strong lean body to his own. "How did you know I was here? And how the heck did you manage to get the door open?"

Stefan pulls away from his older brother, and smiles. "Don't thank me. Thank _her_," he explains, motioning to the woman standing behind him.

Bonnie Bennett moves toward Damon, with a sly grin on her face . . .


	8. Chapter 8

Damon and Stefan follow Bonnie back to her car. Bonnie has done a quick tracking spell, and now knows exactly where Klaus and the witches are taking their friends. It is the same tracking spell that had helped her and Stefan find Damon, in the first place.

"How did you get away from Klaus?" Damon asks his brother, as he climbs into the passenger seat of Bonnie's Honda Civic. _No more BACKSEATS for THIS vampire! _The elder Salvatore thinks to himself.

"Oh . . . Bonnie rescued me," Stefan deadpans with a slight smirk.

Damon turns his attention to Bonnie, who has already started to speed off in the direction of the NEW Sacrifice location, a park on the outskirts of Mystic Falls that is rumored to be an Old Indian Burial Ground. "I assume he was compelled not to leave the house, right?" Damon inquires.

"That's correct," pipes in Stefan. "I wasn't going _anywhere_."

Though Stefan had been on vervain, when he first allowed himself to be kidnapped by Klaus, Maddox had "leeched" the substance out of his body, using a magical process that was both embarrassing, and incredibly painful. Shortly thereafter, Klaus compelled Stefan to stick around the house, until he was instructed to do otherwise.

"After Klaus left the house to get you and Elena, I broke into the house, and tried to get him to leave, but he attacked me," Bonnie explains, absentmindedly gesturing toward Stefan, while continuing to stare straight ahead.

"I'm really sorry about that," replies Stefan.

"Hey, it happens," offers Bonnie with a shrug.

"OK . . . soooo . . . how did you get him out?" Damon presses impatiently.

Bonnie adjusts her rearview mirror, and glances quickly at Damon, "Well . . . I couldn't get Stefan away from the house. So, I got the house away from _Stefan_."

Damon grins widely. He finally gets it. "You burned that sucker to the ground, with your _mind,_ didn't you?"

Bonnie tries to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth turn upwards, betraying her true mood. She is clearly extremely proud herself for _this one_. "It may have been the Best Foreclosure in Town, but it definitely wasn't up to Fire Code," she answers dryly.

Damon shakes his head and smiles. He is impressed. "Bonnie Bennett, you little pyromaniac!"

"Poor Klaus. I do hope he has good Homeowners' Insurance," adds Stefan.

This causes the entire car to erupt into laughter. But that laughter stops abruptly, when the trio remembers the true purpose for their impromptu road trip. "So, would anybody mind filling me in on the new 'Save Elena' plan? I'm assuming you two have one," Damon asks pointedly.

"It's simple, Damon. I'm going to use my Super Cool Witch powers to kill Klaus," Bonnie replies, pulling into the parking lot of the par where the Sacrifice is to take place.

Damon furrows his brow, "_That's_ your Big Plan? You do realize that all that stuff Elijah said about you being able to kill Klaus and save yourself, was total crap, don't you? You _will_ die doing this, Bonnie."

Bonnie pulls her key out of the ignition and unbuckles her seatbelt. She then focuses her steely dark eyes on Damon. "I thought you didn't care what happened to me, as long as_ Elena_ was safe," she says icily.

_But ELENA cares. And she's never going to be able to forgive herself, if Bonnie dies for her_. Damon thinks to himself, surprised at how deeply connected he feels to Elena, ever since they exchanged blood earlier that evening. It is almost as though he can hear her thoughts. Damon turns his attention to Stefan. "And _you're_ OK with this?" He asks dubiously.

Stefan shrugs his shoulders. "It's the only way to save, Elena. And you'll always CHOOSE Elena. Isn't that what you said?"

Damon looks out the window, as images of Elena flood his brain: the feeling of her soft lips on his own, the sensation of her hips grinding up against his groin, the smell of her skin, as she gently nibbles on his ear, and the way her hair shines in the moonlight. Damon tries in vain to purge these images from his brain, as he worries irrationally that Stefan somehow can tell what he's thinking.

"You heard me talking to Elena, that night after the dance," Damon notes, sadly.

Stefan nods silently. "It's OK Damon. I choose her too," he says quietly.

Damon studies Stefan's face, and notices that he is purposefully not looking him in the eye. Something is very, very _wrong_. He turns toward the driver's seat. "Um, Bonnie can you give us a few minutes, please?"

"Get over yourself, Damon! I don't have time for your little games. Elena is in danger. And we have to . . ."

Damon grabs Bonnie's face and turns it gently, so her eyes meet his. For the past week or so, Bonnie has stopped taking vervain, because she found it was dulling her powers. "Bonnie, go sit at that park bench, until I tell you to move," Damon says sternly.

A dazed Bonnie nods at Damon, and obediently exits the car, headed in the direction of a nearby bench. "Was that really necessary?" Stefan asks gruffly.

"Yes . . . it was," Damon replies. He gets out of the car, slams the door shut, and motions for Stefan to follow him. "What are you NOT telling me?"

"Nothing, Damon. Elena is going to live. Isn't that all you care about? What does it matter who gets hurt in the process?" Stefan insists, still refusing to look Damon in the eye.

Damon grabs Stefan's wrist, and pulls his face close to his own. "You are TERRIBLE liar, Stefan. I've known you for over 160 years. And I know that you would NEVER be OK with sacrificing one human's life, for another. So, I'm going to ask you again, WHAT . . . ARE . . . YOU . . . HIDING?"

Stefan roughly pushes Damon off of him, and begins to walk away. As he turns, Damon sees a glint of silver coming from Stefan's sock. Quickly, before Stefan can stop him, Damon reaches down and extracts the object. "This is the White Oak Dagger . . . Katherine stole it from Elena when she ambushed us in the woods. How did YOU get it?" Damon asks, gripping the dagger tightly at its handle.

Stefan sighs, burying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Elena never had the real White Oak Dagger. I switched it out, when she was sleeping one night, and replaced it with a fake one. Bonnie's been keeping it safe the whole time."

Damon shakes his head sadly. He should have known this was going to happen. "You never planned on letting Elena stake Klaus, did you? You were always going to sacrifice yourself for her."

Stefan approaches his brother and places his hand on his shoulder. "Damon, I've lived a long life. I've experienced so much. Elena and Bonnie . . . they are so young! They have so much left to live for. I have to do this for them . . . for all of us," he insists solemnly.

Damon shakes his head. "I can't let you do this, Stefan. It doesn't have to be this way."

"I see no other way that it _can_ be," replies Stefan, reaching for the dagger.

Damon surprises Stefan, by tackling him to the ground. He puts the dagger between his teeth and begins to run in the direction of the Sacrifice. He can't sit back, and watch his brother die! If anyone should sacrifice himself for Elena, it should be _him_. Suddenly, Damon feels a sharp object hit him in the back of the head. It's a rock. He falls to his knees, and begins to lose consciousness. "Take care of her for me, Damon," Stefan says, standing over Damon's prone body.

Then, everything goes black . . . _again!_

A few moments later, Damon opens his eyes to find Bonnie kneeling over him. He gets up slowly, and notices that the White Oak Dagger is gone. "Thanks, for waking me Bonnie," he rasps, rubbing at the rather large bump on the back of his head. "My brother is being a TOTAL dick!"

Suddenly, a pain shoots Damon right in between the eyes, and he knows that Bonnie is giving him one of her classic Witch Migraines, again. "Hey! YOU, STOP THAT! Don't you think I've been through enough PAIN today?" Damon yells.

"That's for COMPELLING ME TO SIT ON A PARK BENCH AND STARE AT THE STARS, WHILE ALL MY FRIENDS ARE DYING," Bonnie growls. "How dare you take advantage of me, like that?"

Damon's vision is blurred. He tries to focus on the trees around him, in order to dull the pain that Bonnie is inflicting on him. And it is in this excruciating moment of "tree watching" that Damon has an epiphany. "Bonnie . . . please . . . just stop doing your Witchy Thing to me, and, I promise, I'll do whatever you want for the rest of the night. Consider me your personal slave," Damon pleads, as he holds his head in agony.

"Anything?" Bonnie asks slyly, clearing intrigued.

"_Anything_ . . . just STOP!" Damon exclaims.

Suddenly, the pain subsides. Damon grabs Bonnie's hand affectionately. She looks up at him, surprised by how gentle he's being with her. And it's in this sweet moment, that Damon hits Bonnie with yet another strong dose of compulsion. "You are going to let me use your car. Then, you are going to find Stefan, and not let him out of your sight, until I return."

Dazedly, Bonnie hands her car keys over to Damon, and walks off.

"Well, that was easy," Damon says with a grin.

He then quickly hops into Bonnie car, and speeds off to the Mystic Grill . . .

_Alaric Saltzman has no other plans this evening, but to get completely and utterly wasted. After all, his life is TOTALLY in the crapper, right now. And what better way to celebrate, than to get so drunk that he forgets his own name? _

_Here's a recap of the week Alaric has had so far . . . On Monday, his vampire not-so-ex wife blew back into town, and paid a visit to his girlfriend. So, SHE, of course, dumped his ass! Then, his not-so-ex wife got him kidnapped, by some creepy warlock guy . . . right before she KILLED HERSELF. _

_By Wednesday, Alaric was possessed by an Evil Vampire, who totally trashed his house, completely cleaned out his liquor cabinet, ruined his favorite shirt, and somehow managed to get Alaric FIRED from Mystic Halls High. (The words, "child endangerment" and "destruction of school property" were included in his Letter of Termination.) _

_Right now, Alaric is sitting at the bar, downing his fourth glass of bourbon. Suddenly feeling rather sleepy, he rests his head on the bar, knowing it's only a matter of time before Manny, the bartender, cuts him off, and kicks him out on the street. Someone pulls up a chair beside him. "Hey, there Alchy-RIc, How's it hanging?" A familiar voice inquires, slapping Alaric roughly on his back._

"_Go away, Damon! I'm busy," Alaric mumbles into the sleeve of his shirt._

"_I can see that," remarks Damon glibly. "Tell me something, Ric. Are you still friends with that guy who owns the construction company, down the street?" _

"_Carl . . . Carl Brown . . . yeah, why?" Alaric asks, trying in vain to move the glass of bourbon to his lips without raising his head from the bar._

"_How would you like to help me save the World from a Were Vamp Apocalypse, this evening?" Damon inquires with a grin._

_Alaric whips his head up from the bar, and quickly, rises from his bar stool, nearly knocking over his drink, as he does so. "I thought you'd never ask," he exclaims._


	9. Chapter 9

Elena silently follows Klaus through the forest to a crudely constructed circle of freshly lit candles. Their flames sway languidly beneath the Full Moon, as if dancing to a song only they can hear. The effect mesmerizes Elena, and distorts her vision.

In the center of the circle are two figures: one blonde-haired, and deceptively human looking, the other definitively animal, with dark coarse fur covering his entire body. Both are lying on their stomachs, and are either dead or unconscious. Elena silently prays for the latter.

Elena feels Klaus' hot breath on her neck, as he leans toward her, inhaling her scent with his nostrils. Elena's whole body stiffens with disgust, as she tries to will this monster away, with her mind. But it is no use. Klaus continues probing her body with his fingertips, and stroking her hair with his hand. Elena closes her eyes tightly, trying in vain fight back the tears she feels forming at the corners of her eyelashes.

Having concluded his examination, Klaus kisses Elena on the base of her neck. He does so with a gentleness and affection that surprises Elena, as much as it terrifies her. She had always assumed the Sacrifice just required her death, but what if it was something more?

After pondering her for a few moments, a dreamy and faraway look in his eye, Klaus awakens from his reverie, and roughly shoves Elena into the center of the circle where Caroline and the currently lupine Tyler are already lying. _I mean nothing to him. I am just an ingredient in his bizarre supernatural recipe. Of course, he wants nothing more from me than a quick death. _Elena thinks to herself. A part of her takes comfort in this. At least, if she has to give up her life, she can do so with her dignity intact.

"Bind her," Klaus instructs a young African American woman, who efficiently, and silently, positions Elena on her knees, before entwining her hands and feet with thick pieces of rope that slice into her skin, and draw blood. The binding, of course, is just a formality. Everyone knows that Elena is not going to run. She is smart enough to know when she has been out-matched.

"The sacrifices are ready," says Greta solemnly

'Then let us begin," answers Klaus.

The two witches take their position on one side of the circle, with Klaus on the other. Then the chanting begins. Elena tries to prepare herself for what was about to happen. She wants so badly to stay strong, but finds that her resolve is breaking. There is nothing like staring death straight in the eyes to make you realize just how much you want to live.

Elena looks over at Tyler and Caroline, and feels a pang of guilt, knowing they will likely have to die on her behalf. _At least they don't know what's happening_ now. She thinks, trying in vain to comfort herself. She briefly wonders, if she will be able to see Caroline and Tyler in Heaven . . . assuming there_ is_, in fact, a Heaven. Elena isn't so sure anymore.

Elena's thoughts then turn to her family . . . Jeremy, Jenna, even John . . . and how she hasn't said goodbye to any of them, or even told them she loved them, one last time. She thinks about Bonnie, and how the two of them have been through so much together, and have been willing to risk everything for one another. _If one of us has to go, Bonnie, I'm really glad it isn't you._ Elena thinks to herself.

Inevitably Elena's thoughts turn to Damon, sitting alone in the backseat of Caroline's car. She remembers the anguished look on his face, when she left him. She wonders if he will ever forgive himself, for not being able to stop this. Elena knows how long Damon suffered and beat himself up over the loss of Katherine. The thought of Damon spending another century in mourning, rips a hole in Elena's heart. And her tears begin to flow freely down her face, covering her cheeks in wetness.

Then there's Stefan, who in the last days of her life, Elena betrayed . . . with her body . . . with her mind . . . and, most importantly, with her _soul. He's never going to know. Damon will never tell him. And maybe, that's for the best._ Elena thinks. _Because, when I am gone, they are going to need one another more than ever._

When Elena opens her eyes, Klaus is holding up an unconscious, but still breathing, Lupine Tyler, by the scruff of his neck. In his other hand, he holds a large knife. He brings it to Tyler's heart.

"NOOOOOO," Elena screams.

Suddenly, Klaus' knife flies from his hand. A distasteful crunching sound is heard, as the arm with which Klaus held the knife tilts backward at an alarming angle. Klaus groans in pain, and, instinctively let's go of Tyler, causing Elena to let out a sigh of relief.

Bonnie Bennett emerges from the forest, a determined look in her eye, and a sadistic smile on her lips.

Klaus turns to Bonnie, and manages a fake smile, through his pain. Putting his now useless, left arm, behind his back, he offers an awkwardly polite bow. "Well, if it isn't the little Witch, Bonnie Bennett. I thought you were dead," Klaus says icily.

"And I thought you would be better looking. I guess no one can be right, all the time," Bonnie replies wryly, before breaking Klaus' right arm with a flick of her wrist.

Klaus growls in anguish, but manages to regain his composure. "Greta . . . Maddox," he manages to call out. "Take care of this little inconvenience for me, would you?"

Not wasting any time, Greta and Maddox combine their forces, and begin shooting flames at Bonnie. Though clearly impacted by the firepower coming toward her, a determined Bonnie keeps her attention on Klaus.

As relieved as she is that Bonnie has managed to save Tyler's life, Elena knows that Bonnie will die, if she continues to use her powers against Klaus. And Elena will not let that happen. Thinking fast, she scoots her body over to one of the candles, and, wincing from pain, begins to slowly burn the rope encircling her wrist. Bonnie's maneuver has bought her some time. And if Elena works fast, there's a chance she might be able to save her friends, after all.

But just as Elena pulls her now-free arms from the fire, she sees another figure emerge from the darkness behind Klaus. It's Stefan. And he is holding a dagger . . . a dagger coated with White Oak Ash. Elena tries to catch Stefan's eye, without alerting Klaus to his presence. She can't let_ Stefan _die for her. Not after what she's done to_ him_.

But Stefan continues advancing toward Klaus, who by now, has so many broken bones, and is so immersed the battle between Bonnie and his witches, he doesn't even notice the threat coming at him from behind. Stefan extends the dagger outward, and prepares himself to make the final blow.

"I'm in love with DAMON!" Elena screams out, in desperation.

In shock, Stefan drops the dagger. Immediately, Klaus turns toward his attacker, fangs bared, ready to fight. With her hurtful words, Elena knows that she has just saved Stefan's life. _But for how long? And at what cost? _Elena wonders.

Suddenly, from the opposite end of the forest, the roar of an engine is heard. The sound grows louder with every second that passes. Then, a large motorized crane emerges from the clearing . . . a crane that is a carrying in front of it, like a sword, a tree that is nearly half its size . . . a White Oak Tree. The crane roars into view, and promptly squashes Maddox and Greta, under its tremendous girth.

"Well, that's an unpleasant way to go . . . Then again, so is having your soul ripped from your body, by an angry warlock minion," Alaric notes casually, from his position in the crane's passenger seat, as the machine bumps and grinds over the two dead bodies.

Damon smiles, as he continues to propel the crane forward in the direction of its true target. Klaus, recognizing that _his_ party is over, has already started limping away.

Between Damon's and Alaric's seat lies a bullhorn. Damon grabs it and directs his attention toward Bonnie. "Hey, Bon, would you mind helping our friends out of their little prayer circle, and walling off the area, with your nifty witch powers?"

Bonnie smiles and puts her hands on her hips. "I could have handled this myself, you know," she complains, only half-jokingly.

"I know you could have," replies Damon through his bullhorn. "I just handled it _better_."

Bonnie rushes forward to free the still sleeping Caroline and Tyler from their Prison of Candles. Meanwhile, Elena turns her attention toward Damon, a huge smile on her lips. "Thank you," she mouths out in the darkness.

Damon nods and smiles. The site of Elena, finally safe and sound, makes him feel happier than he has felt in a long time. Stefan observes the exchange, and feels a lump form in his chest, as a result. At first, Stefan comforted himself with the notion that Elena had said what she said, just to prevent him from staking Klaus . . . thereby relinquishing his own life, in favor of hers. Now, seeing how Damon and Elena look at one another, he can longer deny it. Elena was telling the truth. She's in love with Damon. And Damon is in love with her.

Damon drives the crane and the white oak tree forward, toward the escaping Klaus. Though crippled, the Original clearly still has some of his vampire speed. Using this advantage, he winds his way through the forest, ahead of the heavy machine. Then, all of the sudden, he stops, as if some unseen force is preventing him from moving forward (which IT IS.) Klaus turns sadly, knowing he has nowhere to go, as an entire White Oak Tree impales him against an unseen Magical Forest Wall. Like a fly meeting the business end of a swatter, the impact squishes Klaus' torso, grotesquely and irreparably.

"That was for stealing my body, ASSH*LE!" Alaric yells out in triumph.

Damon turns off the engine of the crane, and sits back in his chair, mentally congratulating himself for a job well done. But before he has a moment to process all that has just happened, in the past few seconds, Damon feels a soft warm pliable body in his lap. A tearful, but resplendently happy, Elena has climbed aboard the crane. Now, she is hugging Damon tightly. And she is not planning on letting go, anytime soon. "A CRANE? Seriously? You are one crazy bastard, Damon Salvatore," Elena whispers in his ear.

"I guess I owe you her life . . . Damon," says a monotone voice, coming from just below the crane.

Damon and Elena instinctively turn toward the direction of the sound. But Stefan Salvatore has already disappeared into the forest . . .


	10. Chapter 10

Damon and Elena both stare for a few moments at the spot where Stefan was standing, as if expecting him to spontaneously reappear in the mist. "Geez . . . who peed in _his_ cheerios?" Damon scoffs.

Elena turns toward Damon, her eyes wide, and filled with meaning, her face solemn. "Damon . . . he _knows._"

Damon shrugs his shoulders, still not quite getting what Elena is insinuating. "Of course, he _knows_ . . . He knows that I killed Klaus. Alert the media! Stefan Salvatore actually didn't get to save the day, for a change. He's going to have suck it up, and move on. Just like I always do for him."

Elena rolls her eyes, in exasperation. _This is what I get for getting involved with two brothers_. She thinks to herself. Taking a deep breath, she tries again. "No Damon . . . he KNOWS."

Suddenly, understanding sets into Damon's features. He sits back in the driver's seat of the crane, and lets this new, very important, piece of information sink in. "Ohhhhhhhhh," he murmurs, contemplatively.

Alaric (who by this point, everybody has completely forgotten is still sitting beside Damon in the crane) figures this would probably be a good time for him to make an exit. "It's been fun guys. But I'm going to head back to Mystic Grill and get drunk," he calls out, a bit louder than he intended

Elena turns toward Alaric with a smirk and a withering look in her eye, "_Get_ drunk?" She inquires pointedly.

"Drunk-_er_ . . . Get drunk_er. _I mean, Klaus is dead, right? I can't think of a better reason to go out and celebrate. Can you?"

Damon smiles. He knew there was a reason he and Alaric got along so well. "All right, take it easy, man. Thanks for all your help, tonight," Damon tells the guy who, in just under a year, has gone from totally hating his guts and wanting him dead, to being his best friend in the whole wide world.

"Anytime," replies Alaric with a mischievous grin, responding to Damon's manly back pat, by pulling his pal in for a huge bear hug, much to Damon's surprise.

As Alaric hops off the crane, he turns toward Elena with a wink. "You take care of this guy, OK? He may act all tough and vampire-y. But, inside, he's just a Big Ole Baby, in need of a diaper change, and a good woman's love and care."

"Thanks Alaric . . . just in case that hug didn't call my manhood enough into question, you're little words of wisdom definitely did," Damon jokes.

Elena laughs and shakes her head. _Men! _She thinks to herself. _Whether they are human, vampire, werewolf, or drunken history teacher, they are all the same_. "I'll try to keep that in mind, Alaric," she replies gleefully.

"You do that," replies Alaric, as he stumbles drunkenly into the night, leaving Elena and Damon to continue their slightly uncomfortable conversation alone.

"How does he know?" Damon asks Elena, not missing a beat, nor feeling the need to elaborate on the "he" to which he is referring. (Elena knows precisely who Damon is talking about).

"I . . . told him," Elena says softly.

Damon stiffens, not sure how to respond to Elena's confession . . . if, in fact, she is saying, what he thinks she is saying. "Told him what?" Damon asks stoically, part of him terrified as to what her answer will be.

"Come on, Damon . . . you _know_ what I told him. Please, don't make me say it again," Elena replies, refusing to look him in the eye.

Damon cups Elena's chin in his left hand, and gently turns her face toward his. Now, Elena is looking straight into his iridescent blue-green eyes. They are mesmerizing in their beauty, comforting in their kindness, and almost frightening in their intensity. Try as she might, Elena can't look away. Damon then softly caresses the curves of Elena's face with his right hand, causing her to instinctively relax, and melt into his touch.

"Elena . . ." He whispers. "I need to hear you say it . . . now that Klaus is gone, and the Sacrifice is over, and all the crazy, intense, and ridiculous things that have thrown us together in the past 24 hours no longer exist. I need to know that you still feel the same way you did about me in that cage, when you thought I was dying . . . when you thought YOU were dying. I need to know that all this is _real_ . . . that WE are real."

Elena raises her own hand to touch Damon's face. A single tear forms at the corner of his eye, and Elena wipes it gently away with her forefinger. "What we have together is real, Damon" Elena insists. "It just took the Sacrifice, and all this insanity, for me realize in my head, what my heart always knew. I love you, Damon Salvatore. And that is what I told Stefan tonight . . . right before he tried to sacrifice his own life to save mine."

Damon shuts his eyes. His feelings of ecstatic joy over Elena's declaration are tempered only by his feelings of guilt, and sadness over his brother's inevitable heartbreak. Because Damon, of all people, knows what it's like to feel as though the person you love more than life itself doesn't love you in return. That hurt and pain, it can eat you alive, incinerate your soul, and send you plunging headfirst into the darkness. It happened to Damon once. And Damon refuses to let it happen to his little brother.

But for a second . . . just a second . . . he wants to forget all about Stefan . . . and just be in the moment, with the woman he loves, unconditionally . . . with the woman who loves HIM, unconditionally.

Damon kisses Elena chastely on the forehead, and then, slightly, less chastely, and more insistently, on the lips. They grab for each other hungrily, grasping at each other's skin with their fingertips. Elena presses Damon up against the wall of the crane, and straddles him. Impatiently, she fumbles with the stubborn buttons on Damon's pants, as she moves in concert with him, grinding and pulsing against the firmness of his body, as if it is a part of her being. All the while, Elena keeps her lips on Damon's mouth, as if it contains her own lifeblood inside of it. His taste . . . his smell . . . the indescribable feeling of his bare skin on hers . . . in this moment, it is the only thing that takes the pain away . . . the only thing that makes her truly feel alive.

"Elena," Damon whispers in her ear reluctantly, knowing that if he lets this continue, before everything with Stefan is truly resolved, she will never forgive herself . . . or _him_.

"Mmmmm . . ." Elena mumbles absentmindedly, as she furiously tugs at the waistband of Damon's pants.

Damon marvels at the fact that, for the second time that night, HE will have to be the one to exercise self-control . . . the one who follows his conscience, and not his heart . . . the one who pushes Elena away, when he would like nothing more than to rip off her clothes and to have his way with her, right there, on top of that ridiculously large piece of industrial hardware. As it turns out, love doesn't always make you do crazy things. Sometimes it make you do uncharacteristically lame ones, to protect the hearts of the people you love. Who knew?

"Elena," Damon says more insistently.

Damon tries in vain to keep his animalistic instincts at bay, as the feeling of undeniable pleasure begins to infect every molecule in his body, causing his thoughts to become blurred. As this happens, the reasons as to why on Earth he would want to stop this become increasingly hazy. He groans, both from the ecstasy he feels, and the intense pain of self-denial he knows is in his immediate future. "We have to talk about Stefan," he grumbles.

Elena's body stiffens, as she silently and guiltily untangles her body from Damon's. She then climbs over him into the passenger seat, careful not to disturb the undeniable firmness in her lover's pants. With some uncharacteristic shyness, Damon turns from Elena to re-button his pants and "correct himself." She politely looks away, waiting patiently for him to "finish" and return his attention to her.

Damon begins speaking rapidly, and with determination, fearing that if he stops, for just a second, he will lose the nerve to say what he needs to say. It is as if he has rehearsed what he is saying to Elena a dozen times in his mind. And, of course, he HAS. A part of Damon has been preparing for this moment, ever since he and Elena shared that first wonderful, and terrifying, kiss in the forest earlier that night.

"OK, listen, Elena. I don't want to hurt Stefan, anymore than you do. He's my brother. And I love him, even though it doesn't seem like it sometimes. So, if you want to deny this . . . if you want to deny US , and tell him that you said . . . _what you said_ . . . in the heat of passion . . . and that you only said it because you didn't want him to kill himself . . . if you want to tell him that you didn't really mean it. I'm OK with that. I mean, I know how much he means to you, and I . . ."

Elena reaches toward Damon and places her index finger gently on his lips. Damon stops, takes a deep breath, and stares intently at Elena. Her wise beyond their years, almond-shaped eyes, return the favor, and seem to see right into his soul. "No, Damon," she begins insistently. "I have to tell him. I owe him that much."

"I appreciate that you love me enough that you are willing to wait," Elena continues. "_You_ may be OK with waiting, Damon. But I'm not. I don't have an eternity like you do. I have ONE life to live. And it is precious to me. If this whole experience has taught me one thing, it is _that_. And you, Damon Salvatore, YOU are precious to me. So, I need to be with you, and ONLY you, from now on."

Damon nods in understanding. He didn't think it would be possible to love Elena anymore than he already did. But seeing her strength and courage, in the face of what she is about to do - something that will be MUCH more painful than anything Klaus, or Jules, or anyone else, could put in her path - makes him love her that much more. "Do you want me to come with you?" He inquires.

Elena shakes her head resolutely. "No, this is something I have to do alone," she replies.

Elena then kisses Damon one more time gently on the lips, hoping that his faith in her will give her the strength she needs to do what she has to do. "I love you," she whispers, as she hops off the crane, and turns in the direction of the forest.

"I love you too, Elena Gilbert," replies Damon with a rueful smile. "But, then again, you already knew that."


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: I apologize for there being no Damon and Elena interaction in this chapter. But be patient with me. I'm planning for a HUGE D&E finale in Chapter 13 . . . one that may just involve a communal shower. ;)**

Elena tentatively enters the Salvatore home. (Well, technically, it is HER home now. But it never really feels that way, and probably never will.)

Bracing herself for what is about to come, she slowly climbs the long staircase toward Stefan's room. When she arrives there, she sees the now-familiar large black suitcase open on Stefan's white bedspread, already partially full. Stefan's back is turned to her. Elena marvels at Stefan's lithe muscular frame, as he removes various articles of clothing from their hangers, folds them with painstaking care, and gently places them inside the suitcase.

_Rip the bandage off, Elena. Just rip it off. _She thinks to herself, as she gently knocks on the door frame. "Come in, Elena," Stefan says emotionlessly, without turning around, or halting his progress.

Elena enters the room, and gently settles herself down on the bedspread, as Stefan continues to pack around her. She casually takes a peek inside Stefan's suitcase. In the bottom corner, Elena notices a framed photograph of her and Stefan. It was taken during the 1950's dance they had attended together, shortly after the pair had started dating.

In the photograph, Stefan - dressed like someone out of the movie _Grease_ - is comically dipping Elena backward, as she laughs hysterically. Stefan looks genuinely happy in that picture, happier than Elena has seen him look in a long time. Stefan notices Elena looking at the picture and purposefully tosses a sweatshirt into the suitcase, hiding it from view. For what seems like a long time, neither of them speaks. Stefan packs, and Elena simply watches him do so, unsure of how to proceed.

"So, I see you're taking a 'We Killed Klaus' Celebration Vacation?" Elena inquires jokingly, in attempt to break the ice.

Stefan laughs, in spite of himself. "Yeah . . . I guess you can call it that: an _extended_ Celebration Vacation. Do you know, I'm going to be 163 years old next month, and I've never been to Disney World?"

"It _is _the Happiest Place on Earth," Elena insists.

"That's what they tell me," Stefan responds, eager to postpone the inevitable conversation. "I figured I'll stop by the Haunted Mansion. I hear they are in the market for their 1,000th ghoul."

"Hey, why not Pirates of the Caribbean? You'd make a really hot pirate," Elena adds.

"I would, wouldn't I?" Stefan concedes with a wistful grin, as he moves toward the closet to collect more clothing.

"You don't have to leave," Elena pleads softly, finally bringing the conversation back around to exactly where they both knew it was destined to go.

"Come on, Elena, be honest with me. Be honest with _yourself_, for a change. Klaus is dead. Your life is no longer in danger. Things are going to be a lot easier for you and Damon, without me around to make you feel guilty and uncomfortable."

Elena thinks about this for a moment, staring intently at the floor. "Maybe it shouldn't be so easy," she wonders out loud.

Stefan ignores Elena's statement, and motions toward his closet, now empty. "I'm guessing you will sleep in Damon's room now. But feel free to put your clothes in here," he offers, in a businesslike manner.

Elena rises and moves toward the closet, forcing Stefan to look her directly in the eye, "Stefan, I'm sorry you had to find out about Damon and me the way that you did. I didn't want you to sacrifice yourself for me. And I guess I reacted on impulse. But that doesn't make it right."

"A part of me always knew. I mean, the signs were all there . . . the way you looked at him sometimes, when you thought I wasn't looking . . . how hard you were on him, every time he screwed up . . . the intense and passionate way you two would fight with one another, for the most ridiculous reasons . . . your bizarre fascination with his bed. It was right in front of my face. I just didn't want to see it."

Elena gently places her hand on Stefan's cheek. But Stefan shrugs it away, and returns to his suitcase, which he begins to zip closed. "Goodbye, Elena. I'll be sure to send you a postcard when I get to Orlando," he says.

Stefan pulls his closed suitcase to the ground, and begins to roll it toward the door. "Stefan wait!" Elena calls after him.

Stefan stops at the doorway, his back still turned. He sighs. "What do you WANT from me, Elena?" He asks in frustration.

"I just . . . I don't know . . . I want SOME kind of reaction from you. Yell at me. SCREAM AT ME! Call me a whore! Show me that you feel SOMETHING about what happened," Elena exclaims, her eyes now filled with tears.

Stefan turns toward Elena one last time. "And that would make you feel better about yourself, wouldn't it?" He inquires icily. "If I yelled and screamed at you for being in love with my brother, and not me, it would ease your guilt . . . make you feel like everything was OK?"

Elena leans against the closet door, and wraps her arms around her chest defensively. "NO . . . well . . . _maybe_ . . . It's just . . . we've always been able to talk, you and me . . . about our feelings. And I thought that if you could tell me how you felt . . . if you could give me some kind of reaction, then . . ." She explains, struggling to find the right words to express what she wants to say.

Stefan shakes his head exasperatedly, and releases his grip on the handle of his suitcase. "I can't give you a reaction, because I have NONE to give," he insists coldly. "The moment I saw you with Damon tonight . . . the moment I knew what you had said during the Sacrifice was true, I shut down. That's one of the benefits of vampirism, Elena - the ability to turn off your emotions. I'm a monster now, Elena. And you are better off without me."

"Stefan . . ." Elena calls after him, but her vampire ex-boyfriend has already sped to the bottom of the stairs, suitcase in hand.

Unfortunately, for the younger Salvatore, he isn't going to be able to make as quick of an escape as he had originally hoped. "Hello, brother," says Damon, with a slight smirk, blocking the front doorway of the Salvatore Mansion with his body.

The time has come for the Salvatore Brothers to have a nice long chat, one that is probably about 140 years overdue . . .


	12. Chapter 12

"Step away from the door, Damon. I'm not going to do this with you . . . not _tonight_," Stefan snarls, taking a step backward, so that he can stare his brother straight in the eye.

Damon smirks, folding his arms across his chest, like a bouncer at an exclusive night club. "Yeah . . . now, see . . . that's where you're wrong, Little Brother," he begins conversationally, ignoring his sibling's growing exasperation. "Because, ever since I starting hanging out with you again, I developed this pesky little habit of wanting to talk about my _feelings_ . . . and share my _soul_, and blah, blah, blah. It's really kind of nauseating, actually. But, if _I'm_ going to have to suffer through all that . . . well, then it's only fair that you should have to suffer right along with me."

Stefan makes multiple attempts to move around his brother, sometimes even resorting to the use of his super-fast vampire speed. But, each time, Damon effortlessly mirrors his movements, repeatedly blocking his passage.

Once Damon is fairly certain that his brother isn't going to try to escape again, he decides to make another attempt at conversation. "You know how people are always saying, 'I know how you feel . . . and . . . 'I know what you're going through,' when they so OBVIOUSLY don't have a clue?" He reasons. "Well . . . I can honestly say, I KNOW how you feel . . . and I know what you're going through."

This clearly-loaded-with-meaning comment sets the already-on-edge Stefan off completely. He immediately, and ferociously, slams his brother into the back wall of the Salvatore Mansion. "Don't you DARE compare THIS to what happened with Katherine! This isn't even in the same UNIVERSE as THAT," Stefan growls, eyes blazing red, his fangs just inches away from Damon's face.

To Stefan's amazement (and annoyance), Damon doesn't seem the least bit fazed by his brother's use of brute force. And as for Stefan's pointed reference to Damon's tragic 140-year unrequited love affair with Katherine, it doesn't even cause the elder Salvatore brother to bat an eyebrow. Apparently, being loved by Elena has done wonders from Damon's temperament, just as the loss of that _same_ love has seemingly destroyed Stefan's.

"Believe it or not, Stefan, I actually wasn't referring to _Katherine_ . . ." Damon says solemnly.

Damon's words stop Stefan cold. _He's right. _Stefan thinks, dejectedly. _Damon loved . . . loves . . . Elena just as much as I do. And for two years, he has had to live with the fact that she was with ME . . . that she loved ME, and not him. Of course, for all I know, Elena could have loved Damon the whole time we were together. Perhaps, it was ALWAYS Damon. Maybe it will always BE Damon . . ._

Suddenly, Stefan feels exhausted. Relinquishing his grip on Damon's shirt collar, Stefan leans back against the wall next to his brother, and slides downward into a sitting position. Damon follows suit. Now the two brothers are sitting side-by-side against the wall. Their feet are splayed out awkwardly in front of them (making them look like two very tall rag dolls). Not ready to make eye contact with one another, both men stare straight ahead at the wall in front of them.

It's Damon who finally breaks the silence. "I'm sorry," he offers.

Stefan shakes his head. "No, you're not. You're thrilled. You finally got exactly what you've wanted all along," he insists bitterly.

Damon nods thoughtfully, "You're right. I'm _not_ sorry that I'm in love with Elena . . . or that she loves me. But I AM sorry that our love for one another had to come at your expense," he explains.

"But it DID come at my expense," Stefan argues, his fists clenched. "You stole her right out from under my nose. I would have DIED for her Damon. I almost DID die for her."

Damon looks down at his lap, contrite. "I know you did. And I can understand if you want to hate me for all eternity, for my part in all this. I'd be devastated, but I'd accept it. What I CAN'T accept, though, is you hating HER. I won't let you hate her, Stefan."

Stefan sighs, and tilts his head back, focusing on a spot on the ceiling. "Why not?" He whispers.

Damon turns, addressing Stefan directly, for the first time, since they sat down on the floor together. His blue-green eyes are wide, and filled with love for his baby brother. "Because she's a good person," he explains, "probably one of the best people I've ever met. And hating someone, who's _that_ good and pure . . . well . . . it rots your soul from the inside out . . . until there's nothing left but hatred, anger, and fear. I know, because that's what happened to ME, when I tried to hate YOU. Some people are just too good to hate," Damon concludes.

"Trust me, Damon, I'm _not_ a good person," Stefan insists, looking at his brother, out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, you are Stefan. You're a better person than I will ever be," replies Damon with a rueful smile.

Stefan blinks back the tears he feels forming at the corners of his eyes. "Not good enough, apparently," he insists.

Damon then surprises Stefan, by reaching his arm out, and tucking it around his brother, pulling the latter in close to his own body. Instinctively, Stefan rests his head on his brother's shoulder. Being close to his brother like this reminds Stefan of how, when he was a kid, he always used to come into his big brother's room, after having had a nightmare. Back then, Stefan would crawl under the covers with Damon, and the two would sit together just like this. "It's OK," Damon would whisper in his brother's ear, over and over again, until Stefan fell back to sleep.

"You know, when you came back into my life, I thought it was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me," Stefan begins, his head still on his brother's shoulder, eyes closed. "But it ended up being the _best_ thing. I could never hate you, Damon . . . as much as I want to, sometimes. I realize you haven't had much happiness in your life, and I feel at least partly responsible for that."

"No, Stefan, I . . ." Damon interjects.

"Let me finish," demands Stefan. "You deserve to be happy, Damon. So . . . if Elena makes you happy . . ."

"She does," Damon says with certainty. "She _really does_. Elena's just so . . ." Damon looks upward, struggling to find the right words. "She's amazing! And whenever I'm with her, I feel like I could do anything . . . _be_ anything. She SAVED ME, Stefan. Elena saved me from myself."

Stefan looks at his brother in wonderment. He's never seen Damon like this before, not even when he was with Katherine. For once in his life, Damon Salvatore is truly and utterly content. And it's all because of Stefan's girlfriend . . . well . . . his _ex-girlfriend_ now. "Then, I'm happy for you . . . for both of you," Stefan finishes.

Damon inclines his head toward Stefan, brows furrowed, a look of skepticism on his face. "Really?"

Stefan smirks. "No . . . but I'm getting there," he insists.

Damon laughs, and proceeds to give his brother a noogie. "I love you, ya little turd."

Stefan lifts his head off his brother's shoulder. "I love you too, Asshole," he replies.

The two then rise from the floor in unison, and give each other a long heartfelt hug. "I still have to leave Mystic Falls though . . . at least for a little while," Stefan says, patting his brother on the back. "It just hurts too much to be here right now, with all that's happened. I need some time."

Damon nods sadly. "I know . . . just . . . don't be a stranger, OK?"

"I won't," replies Stefan, moving back toward the door.

Stefan opens the door of the mansion, and toting the suitcase behind him, crosses back over the threshold of his home, into the sunlight. Catching the heavy door with his foot, before it can close completely, he turns. "I know you will take good care of her," Stefan offers kindly.

Damon smiles and nods, "I _will_ . . . if she lets me!"

Stefan laughs, as the door closes behind him with the finality of a loud thud. But his smile slowly fades, as he reaches his car, and tosses his suitcase in the backseat. It is at that moment that the tears truly begin to fall across the younger Salvatore brother's cheeks. For the first time in a long time, Stefan truly allows himself to cry. He cries for his lost love . . . his lost life . . . and for the town to which he fears he may never have the strength or courage to return.

_Suck it up, Stefan. Be a man_. He scolds himself, wiping his face on his sleeve. Stefan opens the car door, and slowly settles down into the driver's seat.

Stefan is so immersed in his own feelings, and so determined not to feel sorry for himself, that he barely notices the beautiful woman already comfortably seated in the passenger seat next to him. "Where are we going, Loverboy?" Katherine Petrova inquires.

**(Thanks to all of you who have stuck with the story for this long. Next up is the big Delena finale . . . and it's going to be a HOT one. Stay tuned!)**


	13. Chapter 13

Elena steps daintily into the large stall shower in the Salvatore Mansion, allowing the thick white towel draped around her body to fall to the floor, as she enters. She is greeted by a powerful rush of hot water, as it cascades across her shoulders, and down her back, pooling onto the ceramic tile beneath her bare feet. As the water beats down upon her, Elena feels her muscles relax instinctively for the first time in what seems like a year.

Klaus is dead. Her friends are safe. Damon has opened her heart, mind, and body to a world of emotions and sensations, she never even knew she was capable of feeling. And Stefan . . .

Elena blinks, as the tears fill her eyes. She feels as though she has been fighting them off constantly, throughout this whole ordeal. But here . . . alone in the shower . . . she finally lets them come. The salty liquid runs down the curves of her face, intermingling with the water from the shower, until it is impossible to tell which was which. So, immersed is Elena in her own unique mixture of joy and sadness that she barely notices someone knocking on the shower door.

"Damon," she says, as she turns toward the frosted glass.

Though the modesty of the shower door obscures the specifics, she can tell he is naked. Damon's long lean body stands silently outside the stall, a vampire awaiting entrance into her "_home_." _Should she let him in?_

Elena opens the shower stall and steps aside so that Damon can enter. As Damon slides the door closed behind him, Elena can't help but admire the sheer perfection that is his body. During their time together, Elena has seen Damon without a shirt on many times. And yet, this is the first time she's really had the opportunity to admire his_ entire_ form. She notes, with a bit of naughty amusement, that the Damon Parts she _hadn't yet_ seen, are just as breathtaking, if not _more so_, than the ones she already had.

Damon is pleasantly surprised by what he sees as well. Though the elder Salvatore Brother has often imagined what it would be like to be with Elena, on some level, he had always imagined that her body would be identical to Katherine's. Here, in the shower, he could see that it isn't.

While Katherine had been raised to a life of feminine leisure - a lady perpetually in waiting . . . for her next feeding - Elena has lead a significantly more active lifestyle. Elena Gilbert is a modern woman, one more comfortable in jeans than in skirts . . . a cheerleader . . . a woman whose human legs are not at all un-used to running from danger. As a result, Elena's body is taut and more toned than Katherine's could ever be. And though she is a "mere mortal," Elena gives the impression of being stronger, and in some ways, more powerful, than the woman Damon had once spent over a century pining over.

"So, is this how you got women to have sex with you back in the 1800's, Damon . . . by surprising them in the shower, with your rock hard abs and uncommonly large . . . _muscles_?" Elena challenges.

Damon smiles mischievously. And suddenly, Elena has the overwhelming urge to throw him up against the wall of the shower, wrap her legs around his waist, and have her way with him, right then and there. But she controls herself, keeping her hands firmly on her hips. During the past 24 hours, Damon and Elena have gotten pretty hot and heavy in some of the strangest places, and under the most inconvenient of circumstances: in a forest, through the bars of a makeshift jail cell, in the backseat of Caroline's car, on top of a large stiff piece of construction equipment.

But those were _extenuating circumstances._ Elena is nothing like the centuries' worth of shallow, dumb floosies, Damon has bedded in the past. And she is DEFINITELY nothing like Katherine. Elena wants to make these important facts clear to Damon, before they can become . . . whatever it is they are about to become to one another.

Rather than answer Elena's pointed question, Damon decides to ask one of his own. "May I?" He inquires, pointing at the bottle of Pantene shampoo positioned on the shower ledge.

"Help yourself," Elena replies, secretly disappointed. _Maybe he really just wants to take a shower?_ She thinks to herself.

Damon pours a generous amount of shampoo into his right palm, and clasps it to his left, rubbing his hands together to create a generous lather. But rather than put the shampoo on his _own_ head, he moves behind Elena, and rests his hands on top of _hers. _Damon is so close to Elena now, she can feel his cool breath on her neck, contrasting with the steam of the shower. His finely muscled stomach brushes ever so gently against the center of her back. And the hardness between his legs, quietly makes its presence known, just above her backside.

Damon's soapy fingers brush delicately against the back of her neck, as he reaches for her long dark hair and lifts it toward the top of her head. He then begins to slowly and methodically massage her scalp. The bones in his fingers move in a deliciously circular motion, making their way around the top of her head, and slowly around her skull.

When Elena's whole head is covered with a rich and foamy lather, Damon sets to work on gently rubbing her temples, and the delicate skin around her ears. The movement of Damon's magical fingers both mesmerizes and intoxicates Elena. Her eyes flutter closed, as she allows herself to relax into his chest, sinking even deeper under his spell. "You are good at this," she whispers dreamily.

"I know I am," Damon whispers back in her ear, as moves Elena's limp and docile body closer to the shower head, allowing a firm spray of water to cocoon them both. As the shampoo is washed from Elena's head, dripping in liquid clumps, down her back, shoulders and chest, Elena turns her head so that she can rest it on Damon's firm chest. Until now, she hadn't realized how tired the stresses of the past few days have made her. Damon hugs her close to him, which makes her feel safe and protected, so much so that she feels as though she might fall asleep right there in the shower.

Without letting go of Elena, Damon reaches for the vanilla and caramel-scented body wash, and pours a generous amount onto Elena's back. As Elena dozes in Damon's arms, her body drifting in and out of sleep, Damon lovingly begins to work his hands across her body, his palms radiating out, first across her entire back, and shoulders, then around her arms, beneath her arm pits, and through the gaps between each of her fingers. Parting their bodies briefly, Damon soaps Elena's chest and stomach, causing a gentle moan of pleasure to erupt from Elena when his fingers linger over happily across _certain pink areas_ therein. Elena turns obediently, still half asleep, so Damon can work on her legs and feet. But by the time, Damon's soapy fingers have made their way between her legs, Elena isn't so sleepy anymore.

All thoughts of resisting Damon have now left her brain. In fact, Elena is thinking about nothing at all, but _Damon_ . . . _Damon_ . . . and more_ Damon_. Giving in to her desires, as she subconsciously knew she would from the minute Damon had entered that shower, Elena presses herself insistently against his body, pushing backward, until they have reached the wall of the shower. Hungrily, Elena's mouth meets Damon's, her lips fitting against his, as if the two were created for the soul purpose of being pressed against one another. Their tongues dance together to the beat of the water against the shower walls.

Damon hoists Elena upward, his hands placed firmly on the curve of her buttocks. She wraps her legs around his waist, and her hands around his neck, as if THIS is what she has been waiting to do her entire life. And, in some ways, it IS. Their bodies begin to move in unison, as an, at-once familiar, and yet, entirely new, sensation travels across Elena's body, causing her to gasp in pleasure. "Bite me," she whispers in his ear.

"Are you sure?" Damon asks breathlessly, his body so close to release that he finds himself barely capable of forming words.

"Yes," Elena replies insistently. "I'm going to bite you too."

The pressure building in Damon's head becomes too much to bear, and his fangs emerge. Unable to hold back any longer, Damon chomps down on Elena's shoulder, just as he feels the delicious pleasurable but painful sensation of small human teeth on his own neck. Elena cries out, as the blood drips from her neck, her own lips caked in red from Damon's blood. For a second, Damon wonders whether he has hurt her. However, the blissful smile on Elena's face, tells him otherwise.

_Suddenly, the world around Damon and Elena evaporates, and they find themselves in the Mystic Falls Church. But it's not the Church, as it looks now. It's the Church the way it looked in 1864. "Where are we?" Elena whispers to Damon, as she turns toward him at the front of the Church. _

"_Where do you think?" Damon inquires with a seductive smile._

_Far from their former naked states, Damon is now clad in a suit, similar to the one he reserved for special occasions, back when he was still a young man . . . a young __**human**__ man, living in Mystic Falls during the late 1800's . . .events like Easter Sunday, baby christenings . . . and WEDDINGS. Elena is clad all in white. Delicate lace envelops her arms, and cascades across her body, in an ornate, but elegant, pattern. On her head is a silver tiara, accented by a long translucent veil._

"_Do you, Damon Salvatore take this woman, Elena, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, honor her, comfort her, and keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" The Priest inquires._

_Damon looks deeply into Elena's almond shaped brown eyes and smiles, "I do," he replies._

"_Do you, Elena Gilbert take this man, Damon Salvatore, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, honor him, comfort him, and keep him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"_

"_I do," Elena says excitedly, before she can even process what is happening._

_"By the power vested in me under the laws of the State of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife," answers the Priest, before turning to Damon, __"You may kiss the bride."_

_Damon leans in toward Elena, and slowly lifts her veil from her face. Then, gently cupping her face in both of his hands, he pulls her in for a long, sweet, and sensuous kiss._

_A cheer erupts from the church pew. On their feet, dressed in 19__th__-century appropriate attire, are Caroline and Tyler, a wedding ring conspicuously sparkling from the blonde vampire's finger. Also in the audience are Alaric and Jenna, looking as proud as parents, as they watch Jenna's only surrogate daughter marry the man she loves. Jeremy pumps his fist in triumph, "YEAH! Go Damon!" He shouts inappropriately. Standing next to him is Bonnie, who jabs an elbow at him, in faux annoyance, but the smile on her face belies any sense of anger she meant to convey. _

_And there, in the front pew, out of the corner of her eye, Elena spies Stefan . . . and Katherine? Katherine is clapping, and offers a seductive all-knowing wink at Elena. Stefan has his arm wrapped affectionately around the other Petrova Doppelganger. He looks at Katherine lovingly, before turning toward Elena, with a grin on his face. "It's OK," he mouths to her. "I'm OK."_

"_Thank you," Elena mouths back with a smile._

"_Are you ready for this?" Damon asks Elena, his blue-green eyes sparkling._

"_I've been ready for THIS all my life," Elena replies, linking her hand with Damon's, as the two walk together out of the church, ready to spend the rest of their lives . . . well . . . Elena's life anyway . . . together._

Back in the present day, Elena and Damon emerge from the shower, and stand naked before the bathroom mirror. The image of her and Damon together in this way reminds Elena of earlier that evening, when Elena (then dressed as Katherine) was preparing to battle Klaus. And Damon had fed her his blood for the first time, to heal the curling iron induced burn mark on her neck. That moment . . . when she first realized she was in love with Damon . . . that it had ALWAYS been Damon . . . now seemed so far away. So much had happened to them since then. So much had changed.

And yet, here she was, standing in front of Damon, with a wound on her neck, staring at her reflection in a mirror. So, maybe, not that much had changed after all. The fact that they were both alive and together, so many hours later, was a true miracle. And yet their everlasting love for one another was, perhaps, the biggest miracle of them all. "In blood there is truth," Elena remarks to her reflection, as Damon kisses her neck.

Truer words have never been spoken . . .


End file.
